REMINISCENCES 

OF 

THE  CIVIL  WAR, 

.    .    .    BY    .    .  . 

LIEUT.  J.  R.  BOYLES, 

,  Of  Coi^i-pariy  "C"  i-2tlT  S.  C.  V.,  GrenK's  EJrigade, 

.A.  fterwfirds  XI  cOowfin's. 


THK  BRYAN  PRINTING  CO. 

COLT-.MHIA.   S.  C. 

.>  v  1890. 


REMINISCENCES 

.    .    .    OF    .    .  . 

THE  CIVIL  WAR, 

.    .    .    BY    .    .  . 

LIEUT.  J.  R.  BOYLES, 

Of  Companj'  "C,"  i2tix  S.  C.  V.,  Gregg's  Brigade. 
(Afterwards  McGowan's.) 


PREFACE 


These  reminiscences  are  written  by  J.  R.  Boyles,  ex-Lieut, 
of  Co.  C,  12th  S.  C.  V.,  Gregg's  (afterwards  McGowan's)  Bri- 
gade, who  lost  his  right  leg  in  the  memorable  battle  of  Gettys- 
burg, on  July  1st,  1863 — twenty-seven  years  ago.  They  give 
truthful  incidents  that  came  under  the  writer's  notice  in  camp, 
bivouac,  on  the  march,  in  battle,  in  prison,  and  at  home — 
many  of  which  have  never  before  appeared  in  print.  They 
contain  a  complete  roll  of  my  company,  and  also  the  names  of 
many  of  the  regiment  and  brigade,  some  of  whom  are  living 
and  others  are  dead.  . 

The  writer  hopes  from  its  sale  to  realize  a  sum  sufficient  to 
enable  him  to  assist  in  providing  for  his  wife  andchildren,  the 
most  of  whom  are  girls,  and,  if  possible,  for  the  purchase  of  an 
artificial  limb.  THE  AUTHOR. 

Columbia,  S.  C,  1890. 


ARMY  REMINISCENCES. 


CHAPTEE  I. 

I  very  often  read  in  papers,  especially  Xorthern  publications, 
anecdotes  of  the  late  war,  particularly  incidents  that  have  never 
before  appeared  in  print,  sketches  of  different  companies  and 
regiments,  etc.  I  like  to  read  them,  although  I  have  no  doubt 
a  great  many  things  are  written  that  are  not  true.  I  notice, 
too,  that  our  children  love  to  read  them,  and  hear  anything  in 
connection  with  the  war  talked  of;  but  I  notice  one  other  thing, 
there  are  a  great  many  boys  and  young  men,  whose  fathers 
belonged  to  the  army,  that  are  unable  to  say  what  command 
they  were  in.    I  hate  to  see  this. 

I  propose  in  these  pages  to  give  my  readers,  in  a  plain  and 
truthful  manner,  some  facts  relating  to  my  regiment,  company 
and  individual  experience,  both  in  the  army,  in  camp,  on  the 
march,  in  battle  and  in  prison,  hoping  that  where  I  make  a 
mistake,  some  one  in  the  regiment  who  knows  differently  will 
correct  me. 

The  regiment  to  which  I  belonged  was  the  Twelfth  South 
Carolina,  commanded  by  Col.  E.  G.  M.  Dunnovant,  Lieut.  Col. 
Dixon  Barnes  and  Major  Cad.  Jones.  This  regiment  was  com- 
posed of  ten  companies,  as  follows:  Co.  A.  from  York,  Capt. 
W.  H.  McCorkle;  Co.  B,  from  York,  Capt.  John  L.  Miller: 
Co.  C,  from  Fairfield.  Capt.  Henry  C.  Davis;  Co.  D,  from 
Richland,  Capt.  E.  F.  Bookter:  Co.  E,  from  Lancaster,  I  think. 
Capt.  —  Yanlandingham:  Co.  F,  from  Fairfield,  Capt.  Hayne 
McMeekiu:  Co.  G,  from  Pickens,  Capt.  Gaillard;  Co.  H,  from 
York,  Capt.  J.  M.  Steele;  Co.  I,  from  Lancaster,  I  think,  Capt. 
Hinson:  Co.  K,  from  Pickens,  Capt.  J.  C.  Xeville. 

We  assembled  at  Lightwood-knot  Springs  early  in  August, 
1861.  We  were  mustered  into  the  Confederate  service  for  the 
war  by  Col.  John  L.  Black,  I  think,  on  August  20;  remained 
there  and  had  a  nice  time  drilling  and  learning  the  art  of  war 
until  early  in  October.    "While  at  this  point  there  was  another 


4 


new  company  formed;  it  embraced  members  from  all  the  other 
companies,  and  was  termed  by  Jim  Williamson  (who.  I  hope, 
is  still  living  and  may  read  this,)  Co.  O.  It  consisted  of  those 
who  were  really  sick  and  of  a  goodly  number  who  were  not 
sick,  bul  too  lazy  to  drill.  Every  morning  old  Joe  Taylor  and 
his  kettle  drum  and  fife  man  would  beat  surgeon's  call.  The 
boys  had  a  tune  and  words  for  it: 

''Come  along,  sick,  and  get  your  ipecac: 
Come  along,  sick,  and  get  your  ipecac; 
It  you  don't  come  soon,  you  needn't  come  at  all: 
Come  along,  sick,  and  get  your  ipecac,"  etc. 

Co.  ( >.  which  was  invariably  the  largesl  company  in  the  regi- 
ment, would  fall  in  and  march  in  solemn  procession,  with  long 
faces  and  despondent  looks,  to  the  tent  of  Dr.  E.  B.  Turnipseed, 
surgeon  of  the  regiment,  whose  first  command  to  each  one  in 
turn  was.  "Let  me  see  your  tongue."  He  would  then  prescribe 
for  them.  Some  claimed  to  derive  a  good  deal  of  relief  from 
bread  pills,  and  one  fellow  I  know  (but  I  am  afraid  to  call  his 
name)  claimed  thai  they  relieved  him.  but  they  came  near 
working  him  to  death.  Jim  Williamson  would  always  assign 
some  one  to  the  command  of  Company  O.  Most  frequently, 
though,  I  think,  he  assigned  Mad.  Vaughan  to  its  command, 
but  sometimes  Wagstaff,  of  Co.  D,  or  Bill  Rush,  (poor  fellows, 
they  are  both  dead:  more  of  them  hereafter.)  Co.  O  was  al- 
ways full.  Tt  seemed  the  more  the  members  of  the  regiment 
died  and  were  killed,  the  larger  it  got. 

There  were  men  in  camp  at  Light  wood- knot  who  had  never 
seen  the  ears  until  they  took  the  train  to  go  into  camp,  and 
every  day  when  the  whistle  would  blow,  they  would  go  tearing 
to  get  to  the  train,  and  the  common  expression  was,  "Fall  in, 
Martin  Guards,  the  railroad  is  coming!"  I  think  they  were 
t'n  >m  Laurens.  While  t  here,  many  a  poor  fellow  had  his  water- 
melons rolled  off  between  the  legs  of  the  crowd,  who  would 
gat  her  around  him  on  purpose.  There,  too,  was  first  begun  the 
deviling  of  poor  old  man  Bishop,  who  finally  swore  that  "The 
very  birds  were  hollering  Bishop!  Bishop!"  And  there,  also, 
Bill  1  Catcher  first  got  the  nickname  of  Abe  Lincoln,  and  wanted 
to  fight  every  man  who  called  him  by  that  name,  and  even  now 
he  will  fight  if  you  say  Abram  to  him,  notwithstanding  he 
bears  a  striking  resemblance  to  the  old  man. 


5 


Early  in  October  (I  think,  the  2d,)  we  boarded  the  cars  for 
Charleston.  Arriving  there  we  were  not  permitted  to  stop,  but 
were  hurried  down  to  the  wharf  and  hustled  into  or  onto  an  old 
cotton  steamboat  and  started  for  we  knew  not  where,  although 
Rolling  Moss  and  Jim  Farmer  kept  things  lively  by  singing. 
That  night  poor  Hasting  Eeynolds,  of  Co.  C,  fell  overboard 
and  was  drowned.  His  body  was  seen  by  another  boat  the  next 
day  floating  among  the  sea- weeds,  but  was  left  there — food  for 
fish  and  vultures.  This  was  the  first  man  we  lost  from  our 
company,  and  it  made  us  all  feel  quite  sad.  The  next  morning 
we  arrived  at  the  little  old  town  of  Beaufort,  disembarked,  went 
into  camp  and  thought  we  were  going  to  have  a  nice  time. 
After  remaining  there  about  a  week  we  were  embarked  ou  a 
steamboat — at  least,  six  companies  of  the  regiment — and  carried 
about  fifteen  miles  below  Beaufort  and  landed  at  Bay  Point,  to 
prevent  the  Yankees  from  getting  to  Beaufort.  The  other  four 
companies  of  the  regiment  were  carried  to  Hilton  Head.  Here 
we  began  to  experience  a  little  of  what  a  soldier's  life  was.  The 
water  that  we  drank  and  used  for  cooking  was  obtained  by 
sinking  a  flour  barrel  about  two  feet  in  the  sand;  it  was  miser- 
able water.  After  we  had  been  there  two  or  three  weeks,  the 
Federal  fleet  began  to  arrive  in  sight  and  anchored  out  at  sea. 
Each  day  they  increased  in  number.  Then  it  was  that  John 
Hays  wanted  to  know,  "Dad  burn  it!  why  don't  old  Tatnall  go 
out  and  drive  them  off?"  After  that  John  went  by  the  name 
of  Commodore.  One  evening  Commodore  Tatnall  did  run  out 
a  short  distance  with  his  three  little  duck-looking  boats  and 
fired  on  the  Yankee  fleet.  At  first  they  treated  his  shots  with 
silent  contempt,  but  after  a  while  they  became  tired  of  his  noise, 
turned  loose  on  him  and  knocked  the  spots  out  of  one  of  his 
boats.  We  felt  pretty  secure,  thinking  our  heavy  guns  and  those 
at  Hilton  Head  would  be  able  to  knock  their  fleet  to  atoms. 


CHAPTEK  II. 

We  left  off  in  the  last  chapter  at  Bay  Point,  feeling  certain 
and  confident  that  the  heavy  guns  we  had  there  (Beautort  Ar- 
tillery, I  think,)  and  those  across  the  channel  at  Hilton  Head, 
would  demolish  the  Federal  gun-boats  if  they  ever  attempted 


6 


to  pass  us.  While  here  we  had  very  little  military  duty  to 
perforin,  and  occupied  the  time  in  casting  fish  nets,  fishing  for 
crabs,  sauntering  up  and  down  the  lovely  white  sandy  beach, 
gathering  sea  shells,  &c;  while  some  employed  the  time  in  this 
May,  others  were  engaged  in  their  tents  playing  cards,  and 
still  others  rambling  over  the  point,  hunting  wild  fruit,  alliga- 
tors. &c.  Here  a  great  number  of  us  saw  our  first  living  alli- 
gator, which  was  only  about  sixteen  feet  long,  and  was  killed, 
I  think,  by  George  Simpson  (poor  George,  he,  too,  has  passed, 
like  many  others,  "beyond  the  river").  George  was  a  very 
warm  friend  of  mine — notwithstanding,  we  had  come  very  near 
having  a  little  "set-to"  while  at  Lightwood-knot  Springs — 
something  about  a  wash-pan.  He  was  a  fine-looking  and  brave 
soldier.  Our  entire  force  at  Bay  Point  consisted  of  the  six 
companies  before  mentioned,  the  battery  of  artillery  and  a 
company  of  the  hardest-looking  set  of  cavalry  I  ever  saw,  most 
of  them  mounted  on  little  marsh -tack eys;  they  called  themselves 
the  "Hoopaw  (or  Whipper)  Swampers;"  I  don't  remember  the 
Captain's  name.  This  huge  force  was  commanded  by  Col.  E. 
G.  M.  Dunnovant,  a  braver  man  than  whom  never  lived.  This 
w  as  the  force,  with  those  at  Hilton  Head,  that  was  to  whip  and 
drive  back  the  entire  Yankee  naval  fleet.  As  there  wTas  very 
little  to  do,  Co.  O  had  about  disbanded,  and  all  were  able  to 
consume  their  share  of  salt  horse  or  mule  and  hard  tack.  All 
this  time  the  Yankee  fleet  was  increasing,  and  the  masts  of  the 
\  essels  oul  at  sea  resembled  dead  trees  standing  very  thick  on 
a  new  ground.  We  could  hear  their  bands  frequently  playing, 
but  with  t  hat  except  ion  they  kept  very  quiet,  until  the  night  of 
the  6th  of  November,  when  we  could  hear  their  carousing  and 
huzzaing  very  plainly.  That  night  every  man  of  us  rested  on 
his  arms,  wondering  what  the  morrow  would  bring  forth.  The 
night  passed  without  other  incident.  At  dawn  on  the  7th,  we 
could  see  that  the  fleet  had  been  augmented  through  the  night, 
and  the  "stars  and  stripes"  were  seen  flying  from  their  mast- 
heads, as  well  as  the  Commodore's  ensign.  Soon  after  break- 
fast the  bands  began  to  play,  the  sails  were  unfurled,  smoke 
began  to  curl  from  the  smoke-stacks,  and  one  by  one  the  large 
war  vessels,  with  the  Wabash,  I  think  it  was,  in  front,  started 


7 


through  the  channel.  Everything  on  sea  and  land  was  as  still 
as  death  until  the  foremost  vessel  had  gotten,  I  suppose,  within 
a  mile  of  Hilton  Head — which  was  a  little  in  advance  of  us — 
when  a  little  cloud  of  blue  smoke  burst  up  from  the  fort  at 
Hilton  Head,  and  presently  the  boom  of  the  mighty  gun  rever- 
berated across  the  water;  then  another  and  another.  Still  the 
mighty  war  vessels  held  their  fire.  Now  they  get  nearly  or 
quite  in  range  of  our  guns  and  they  open,  seemingly  with  no 
effect.  Xow  it  is  that  these  huge  monsters  pour  in  their  fire  on 
Hilton  Head,  pass  by  it,  pay  their  respects  to  us  in  fine  style, 
pass  us  a  short  distance,  deliberately  turn  round  and  pass  us 
again,  pouring  broadside  after  broadside  into  our  forts.  Their 
shot  aud  shell  did  little  damage  to  our. fort — they  went  howling 
and  whistling  through  the  trees  over  our  heads  and  bursting 
far  beyond,  causing  us  to  lie  low.  The  casualties  on  our  side 
at  Bay  Point  were  very  few — I  think,  only  one  artilleryman 
was  severely  wounded.  (I  had  a  diary  of  all  dates,  names  and 
casualties  of  all  these  forts,  but  lost  it  afterwards  in  Virginia: 
I  will  tell  how  when  I  reach  that  point.)  Their  fire  was  more 
destructive  at  Hilton  Head.  This  warfare  was  kept  up  until 
about  4  o'clock,  when  we  noticed  that  our  guns  at  Hilton  Head 
were  silent.  Then  it  was  that  our  hearts  began  to  flutter,  and 
visions  of  Yankee  prisons  flitted  before  us.  Our  brave  little 
force  of  artillerists  continued,  however,  to  peg  away  at  the 
Yankee  vessels,  who  now  scarcely  returned  their  fire,  but  kept 
their  attention  to  and  began  to  close  in  on  Hilton  Head.  AYe 
were  now  ordered  to  "fell  in,"  marched  out  and  formed  in  line 
of  battle  on  the  beach,  in  full  view  of  the  Yankee  fleet — for 
what  purpose,  we  knew  not;  whether  to  be  surrendered  or,  as 
it  was  said  Gen.  Bray  ton  did.  ordered  to  charge  the  Yankee 
fleet.  The  sun  was  about  setting,  and  its  rays  cast  a  beautiful 
light  across  the  water.  AYe  could  plainly  see  the  Yankees 
launching  their  flat  boats  and  fill  them  with  marines,  then  land 
at  Hilton  Head,  while  their  bands  played  ^Yankee  Doodle." 
Our  company,  C,  was  on  the  extreme  right  of  our  line  of  battle. 
Here  we  stood  until  twilight  began  to  change  to  darkness. 
Presently  the  whispered  order  came  along  the  line:  "Left  face: 
forward,  march!"    The  rest  from  the  left  had  been  moving  off 


8 


for  soi no  time.  As  was  our  luck,  we  were  the  rear  guard.  Our 
tents  were  left  standing,  and  only  one  soldier  from  our  company, 
Billy  Duren,  poor  boy  (for  be  was  nothing  but  a  child),  being 
too  sick  to  travel,  was  left  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  enemy 
when  they  should  land  there.  We  were  in  full  retreat.  It  was 
pitch  dark,  except  the  sparkling  of  the  salt  water,  the  tide 
having  risen,  and  the  march  was  through  water  from  knee  to 
waist  deep  and  mud  for  six  or  seven  miles.  On  this  march  men 
would  bog  down  and  have  to  be  pulled  out  by  others — men,  too, 
got  away  from  there  who  could  not  or  would  not  have  tried  to 
get  away  under  other  circumstances.  For  instance,  Sturgeon 
Kennedy,  of  our  company,  (he,  too,  has  passed  away  since  the 
war,)  and  Tom  Anderson,  of  Co.  F,  I  don't  think  he  could 
come  it  now,  both  of  them  made  as  good  time  as  the  rest  of  us. 
We  knew  the  enemy  could  very  easily  cut  us  off  and  capture 
us,  and  once  the  whole  line  halted,  having  seen  a  light  in  front 
and  thought  it  was  the  Yankees.  Col.  Dunnovant  inquired  the 
cause  of  the  halt,  and  being  told  that  a  light  had  been  seen  in 
front,  he  remarked:  "Tell  them  to  go  ahead;  we  will  charge 

h —  and  d  n  to-night,  if  necessary."    But  the  Yankees  were 

not  thinking  of  us — they  were  too  busy  drinking  and  reveling 
with  the  negro  wenches  on  the  island,  who  nocked  there  by 
hundreds,  wit  h  visions  of  freedom.  We  could  plainly  see  their 
lights  and  hear  their  drunken  carousals.  About  11  o'clock  we 
came  to  a  deep  river  and  had  to  stop  and  wait  for  a  number  of 
flats  which  had  conveyed  the  rest  of  the  command  across;  after 
waiting,  it  seemed  an  age,  we  heard  them  coming  for  us — they 
were  rowed  or  polled  by  a  number  of  full-blooded  Gullahs, 
down-the-country  negroes,  whose  language  we  could  not  under- 
stand a  word  of.  They  were  evidently  displeased  at  having  to 
put  us  over,  preferring  to  be  down  where  they  knew  if  they 
could  get,  they  would  be  free  from  their  owners.  After  about 
an  hour's  time  they  carried  us  all  safely  to  land.  We  formed 
in  line  and  marched  a  short  distance  to  the  lovely  residence  of 
Dr.  Jenkins,  to  find  the  balance  of  our  command  all  gone.  The 
Dr.  was  still  there,  and  told  us  to  help  ourselves  to  whatever 
we  could  find  to  eat.  We  found  plenty,  but  nothing  cooked — 
those  who  had  preceded  us  having  pretty  well  cleared  up  things. 


9 


We  hurriedly  cooked  some  sweet  potatoes  and  grist,  or  had  them 
cooked  by  the  negroes,  who  were  very  loth  now  to  do  anything. 
And  now  we  will  rest  and  eat  potatoes  and  hominy  at  Dr.  JTs. 

CHAPTER  III. 

We  could  not  afford  to  tarry  long  at  Dr.  Jenkins'  house;  so 
after  a  hasty  repast,  such  as  it  was,  we  were  ordered  to  fall  in 
and  march  at  once  to  Beaufort,  where  we  would  meet  trans- 
portation to  carry  us  to  the  main  land.  Alas!  we  knew  not 
which  way  to  start  to  reach  Beaufort.  In  this  dilemma  Dr. 
Jenkins  whisperingly  told  Capt.  Davis  to  press  one  of  his  ne- 
groes into  service;  and  Orderly  Sergeant  S.  W.  Broom,  who 
marched  at  the  head  of  the  company,  ordered  the  most  intelli- 
gent looking  young  buck  to  pilot  us  to  Beaufort.  This  he  very 
reluctantly  undertook  to  do,  at  the  point  of  a  loaded  musket. 
Soaking  wet  from  foot  to  head,  we  began  our  march  to  Beaufort. 
There  was  no  straggling  now;  Co.  O  had  disbanded,  its  members 
all  having  joined  their  original  commands.  I  suppose  it  was  at 
least  12  o'clock  when  we  left  Dr.  Jenkins7;  the  sand  was  from 
three  to  fifteen  inches  deep,  and  the  distance  to  Beaufort,  I 
think,  about  eight  miles.  Sun-up  the  next  morning  we  arrived 
at  the  river  which  separated  us  from  Beaufort  and  in  sight  of  it, 
but  no  transportation  there.  We  now  felt  sure  that,  after  all 
our  hardships  and  toil,  we  had  been  abandoned  by  the  rest  of 
our  command,  who  had  gone  on  steamboats  to  Charleston  and 
some  around  to  Port  Royal  ferry,  and  that  there  was  no  other 
chance  but  for  us  to  be  captured.  There  was  nothing  on  our 
side  of  the  river  except  a  row  boat,  but  we  could  see  a  small 
steamboat,  with  apparently  no  concern  for  us,  over  at  Beaufort. 
Capt.  Davis  ordered  Sergt.  Brown  with  two  other  men  to  row 
over  as  quick  as  possible  and  force  its  captain  to  come  and  carry 
us  off,  or  else  blow  out  his  brains.  Presently  the  steamer  came 
over  and  we  were  soon  on  board,  feeling  that  probably  we  could 
now  outrun  the  Yankee  pursuers  to  the  mainland;  but  this 
feeling  was  of  short  duration.  The  captain  of  the  boat  said  he 
would  carry  us  across  and  land  us  in  Beaufort,  but  no  further, 
as  his  boat  was  leaking  and  liable  to  sink  with  us  on  board. 
He  landed  us  in  Beaufort,  which  he  had  no  idea  of  doing  until 


LO 


he  was  compelled  to  do  so  to  save  his  own  life.  Here  we  are, 
still  ten  miles  from  Port  Royal  ferry,  st  ill  in  as  much  danger  as 
ever  of  being  captured.  We  marched  up  into  the  little  town, 
bul  how  changed  from  what  it  was  a  few  short  weeks  before. 
W  hore  all  had  been  contentment,  riches  and  happiness,  was 
now  confusion,  sadness,  sorrow,  desolation  and  misery;  all  the 
loyal  citizens  had  gone.  Squads  of  negroes,  from  the  pickanini 
to  the  decrepid  centenarian,  were  eagerly  straining  their  eyes 
looking  down  the  bay  for  the  Yankees,  whom  they  expected 
every  minute  to  appear  in  sight.  There  were  a  few  of  the  citi- 
zens still  remaining,  but  they  seemed  perfectly  contented  and 
even  glad.  Capt.  Davis  ordered  myself  and  two  others  to  sally 
forth  and  see  if  we  could  find  some  whiskey  to  strengthen  and 
encourage  us  before  taking  up  our  line  of  march  to  the  ferry. 
We  went  into  a  store  where  an  old  fellow  (I  think  his  name  was 
Silcox)  was  brushing  up  his  goods,  arranging  his  bottles  on  the 
shelves,  apparently  happy  in  anticipation  of  a  lively  run  from 
the  Yankee  soldiers — dreaming  of  greenbacks  instead  of  gray- 
backs.  I  told  him  our  situation,  and  that  we  wanted  some 
whiskey.  He  politely  told  us  he  could  not  sell  for  graybacks 
any  more.  We  politely  walked  behind  the  counter,  pressed 
what  we  wanted,  marched  out  and  up  to  where  we  had  left  our 
comrades.  After  all  had  taken  a  good  stout  drink,  we  took  up 
our  line  of  march  to  Port  Eoyal  ferry — tired,  sleepy  and  hungry 
as  wolves.  It  took  us  the  entire  day  to  make  the  trip,  many  of 
us  having  to  pull  off  our  shoes  and  go  in  our  socks  or  bare  feet, 
they  were  so  sore  and  blistered.  We  reached  the  ferry  about 
sun-down  and  were  roped  across.  Here  we  had  hoped  to  find 
plenty  to  eat;  but,  alas!  we  found  nothing  but  fresh  raw  beef, 
raw  grist,  raw  sweet  potatoes,  and  nothing  to  cook  them  in. 
We  did  the  best  we  could,  and  were  soon,  except  a  few  sentinels, 
all  sound  asleep,  feeling  secure  from  capture,  as  we  were  at  last 
on  mainland.  The  next  morning,  foot-sore,  dirty  and  hungry, 
we  t  ook  up  our  line  of  march  for  Pocotaligo.  The  distance,  we 
were  told,  was  nine  miles.  The  road  was  blocked  with  wagons, 
carts,  carriages,  civilians,  squads  of  contrabands,  all  "skedad- 
dling *  to  get  as  far  away  from  the  water  as  possible;  our  march 
was  necessarily  slow,  and  how  easily  the  Yankees  could  have 


11 


captured  us  if  they  had  pursued — we  were  in  no  condition  to 
make  resistance;  and  right  then,  if  they  had  known  it,  they 
could  have  marched  to  Pocotaligo  and  destroyed  the  Savannah 
Railroad  there.  The  miles  appeared  as  leagues;  we  kept  hear- 
ing of  Gardiner's  Corner,  and  hoped  when  we  got  there  to  find 
something  to  eat;  nothing  again.  Finally,  late  in  the  evening, 
we  reached  old  Pocotaligo,  to  find  our  comrades,  many  of  whom 
had  goue  around  by  Charleston,  already  there  and  rested.  We 
soon  had  plenty  to  eat,  but  had  to  cook  it  first.  Here,  too,  we 
met  the  four  companies  of  our  regiment  who  had  been  at  Hilton 
Head;  they  had  also  had  a  rough  time.  We  were  once  more  a 
reunited  command;  and  although  sorry,  indeed,  that  the  enemy 
had  obtained  a  foothold  on  our  soil,  we  felt  we  were  in  a  much 
better  condition  for  resistance  than  we  had  been  at  Bay  Point 
and  Hilton  Head.  We  slept  soundly  and  contentedly  that 
night,  dreaming  of  wives,  sweethearts  and  those  dear  to  us — 
they  little  dreaming  of  the  many  hardships  we  had  endured 
during  the  past  forty-eight  hours.  The  next  day  we  drilled  a 
little  and  cleaned  up  our  guns.  I  do  not  now  remember  who 
was  in  command  of  Co.  O;  but  whoever  it  was,  recruiting 
began,  and  very  soon  it  became  a  large  company.  We  will 
rest  a  little  at  Pocotaligo. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  day  after  our  arrival  at  Pocotaligo  the  boys,  or  some  of 
them,  began  to  learn  the  art  of  foraging  for  grub,  and  the  sweet 
potato  patches  near  camp  soon  looked  as  if  a  drove  of  hogs  had 
been  turned  in  upon  them,  and  those  old  low  country  gentlemen 
began  to  complain.  Two  of  our  boys  appropriated  a  duck  or 
two  belonging  to  one  Heyward;  he  reported  the  fact  to  the 
Colonel,  who  had  them  arrested,  placed  under  guard,  on  light 
diet,  bread  and  water.  I  have  no  doubt  Mr.  Heyward  soon 
bitterly  regretted  having  reported  the  matter;  he  passed  camp 
every  day  going  to  the  railroad,  and  from  the  time  he  came  in 
sight  until  he  disappeared,  he  was  greeted  with:'  'Quack! 
quack!"  "Here's  your  ducks!''  &c.  He  looked  as  if  he  felt 
very  mean,  and  have  no  doubt  he  did,  because  he  knew  we 
were  guarding  and  trying  to  keep  the  enemy  back  from  his 


L2 


door — he  knew  not  how  soon  his  ducks  and  all  he  had  might 
fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Yankees.  I  am  bound  to  express 
what  is  an  undeniable  fact,  and  that  is  that  he  and  many  of  like 
calibre  in  the  country  on  the  coast  treated  us  with  no  respect. 
Our  rest  here  was  of  short  duration,  but  before  leaving  I  must 
tell  one  other  little  incident.  Henry  Rains  was  a  great  smoker; 
two  of  his  messmates,  Wylie  Wyrick  and  Bill  (Wright)  Smith, 
got  hold  of  his  pipe,  filled  it  over  half  full  of  powder,  put  in 
some  tobacco,  lit  it  and  gave  it  to  him  to  smoke;  the  result  was 
that  Henry  was  soon  minus  hat,  eye-brows,  eye-lashes  and  came 
very  near  losing  his  eyes;  they  were  put  in  the  guard  tent  and 
fed  on  light  diet  for  some  time.  Poor  mischievous  boys,  they 
are  both  dead,  while  Henry  still  lives  and  looks  well,  even  has 
his  second  wife;  he  was  always  sick  while  in  the  army. 

A  few  nights  after  we  had  been  here,  the  "long  roll"  sounded, 
we  were  ordered  to  fall  in  as  quickly  as  possible  and  meet  the 
enemy,  who,  it  was  reported,  had  crossed  Port  Royal  ferry  in 
large  numbers  and  were  marching  on  us.  We  were  hurried  off 
in  that  direction,  marched  as  far  as  Gardner's  Corner,  halted, 
threw  out  skirmishers  and  pickets;  the  rest  of  us  lay  down  in 
the  road  on  our  arms  under  the  wide-spreading  live  oaks,  which 
were  heavily  draped  with  moss.  Soon  everything  was  quiet 
and  the  most  of  us  asleep,  when  suddenly  I  was  aroused,  and 
so  were  the  men,  by  the  most  unearthly  yell  I  had  ever  heard; 
my  hair  stood  on  end;  presently  the  yell  was  repeated  in  the 
tree  right  over  our  heads — we  then  recognized  it  as  coming 
from  an  immense  horned  owl,  which  make  a  noise  entirely  dif- 
ferent from  those  in  the  up  country .  Presently  our  skirmishers 
came  back  and  reported  a  false  alarm — that  the  videttes  at  the 
ferry  had  seen  nothing  of  the  enemy.  After  this  false  alarms 
were  of  frequent  occurrence.  We  retraced  our  steps  back  to 
camp,  cursing  the  man  who  caused  the  alarm,  although  he  was 
always  hard  to  find.  About  this  time  furloughs  for  ten  days 
were  being  granted  to  one  or  two  men  from  each  company;  so 
eager  were  the  men  to  obtain  them,  that  one  fellow,  whose  name 
I  withhold,  although  he  did  not  belong  to  my  company,  actually 
cut  off  one  of  his  fingers  with  a  hatchet  on  purpose  to  get  a 
furlough;  poor  fellow!  he  was  doomed  to  disappointment — he 


13 


missed  his  finger  and  his  furlough,  too.  Soon  after  this  we 
were  marched  down  not  far  from  a  place  called  Pagis  Point, 
and  here  we  spent  our  first  Christmas  in  the  army.  We  did 
pretty  well;  our  foragers  had  brought  in  a  few  turkeys,  chick- 
ens, fat  pigs,  etc.,  and  some  of  us  received  boxes  from  home; 
4  on  the  whole,  we  had  a  right  nice  Christmas  dinner.  We  did 
picket  duty  up  and  down  the  river;  at  night  we  heard  no  sound 
save  the  blowing  of  the  porpoises  as  they  swam  along  in  shoals 
and  occasionally  the  cackle  of  the  marsh  hens.  False  alarms 
were  of  common  occurrence  here.  One  night  Tom  Arledge,  of 
our  company,  and  another  man  were  sent  to  Seabrook's  Land- 
ing; Tom  evidently  went  to  sleep,  and  waking  up  thought  he 
saw  a  Yankee  a  few  yards  in  front  of  him;  his  aim  was  good, 
he  blazed  away  and  cut  off  the  head  of  a  Yankee,  which  was  a 
bush.  Another  night  Wagstaff  blazed  away  at  an  imaginary 
Yankee,  which  proved  to  be  a  dog;  still  another  night,  I  was 
Sergeant  of  a  squad,  sent  down  to  picket  the  river;  two  men 
were  on  post  at  the  time;  we  were  to  be  in  readiness  to  support 
them  in  case  of  an  attack  or  attempt  to  land;  we  built  a  fire  in 
a  deserted  negro  cabin  and  were  quite  comfortable,  although 
the  night  was  very  cold;  soon  we  heard  "bang!  bang!"  hurried 
to  the  spot,  but  could  hear  no  sound  nor  see  any  one;  whistled 
and  the  two  scared  rebs  who  had  fired  answered  us;  we  inquired 
what  was  the  matter,  they  replied  that  they  had  fired  at  a  man 
they  had  seen  approaching  from  the  river  and  that  he  fell;  they 
had  never  moved;  we  got  down  on  our  knees  and  crawled  around 
in  the  dark,  feeling  for  their  dead  Yankee,  but  found  none;  I 
think  they  only  got  lonesome  and  wanted  company.  The  Yan- 
kees w^ere  picketing  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  and  a  few 
days  after  this  a  row  boat  from  their  side  came  over  under  a 
flag  of  truce,  to  bring  the  photograph  of  poor  Billy  Duren, 
whom  we  had  left  sick  at  Bay  Point,  and  notified  us  that  he 
was  dead.  Joe  Dunlap  was  on  post  at  the  time  and  fired  on 
the  boat,  not  knowing  anything  about  flag  of  truce  boats. 
There  was  an  Indian  mound,  or  old  dirt  fort,  near  here,  some 
distance  in  the  marsh,  not  far  from  the  river;  we  went  to  work 
to  build  a  causeway  across  the  marsh  out  to  it  and  intended  to 
place  cannon  there  to  prevent  their  boats  from  passing,  but 


14 


before  we  got  it  completed  a  gun-boat  ran  past  and  made  us  do 
some  tall  dusting,  throwing  seventy-five  pound  shells  after  us 
for  a  mile;  they  passed  on  and  did  not  attempt  to  land;  we  re- 
turned to  our  former  position,  but  gave  up  the  fort  undertaking. 

CHAPTER  V. 

I  cannot  remember  how  long  we  remained  in  the  vicinity  of 
Pagis  Point.  The  Yankees  did  land  at  Port  Royal  ferry  one 
day — 1  think,  January  1,  1862.  Part  of  our  regiment  were 
engaged  in  a  slight  battle,  but  the  enemy  were  soon  driven 
back  to  their  gun-boats.  I  remember  a  part  of  the  regiment 
one  day  crossed  over  to  an  island,  captured  some  contrabands 
and  started  them  under  guard  to  Pocotaligo;  the  guard  through 
carelessness  was  overpowered  and  left  for  dead  by  the  negroes, 
who  made  their  escape.  One  of  the  guard,  named  Bradley, 
from  Lancaster,  if  alive,  still  bears  bayonet  wounds,  marks  of 
the  awful  scuffle;  another,  I  think,  named  Twitty,  died  from 
the  effects  of  his  wounds.  I  can  distinctly  remember  hearing 
these  poor  fellows  groan  as  they  were  being  conveyed  back  past 
us  to  the  hospital.  About  this  time  Tom  Reynolds,  of  Co.  C, 
lost  his  hearing  and  was  made  cook  of  his  mess;  many  a  hearty 
laugh  I  have  taken  at  his  expense.  Jim  Reynolds,  his  brother- 
in-law,  would  walk  up  to  where  he  was  cooking,  put  his  hand 
up  and  motion  as  if  blowing  his  nose  in  Tom's  frying-pan,  and 
invariably  had  to  run  for  dear  life,  for  Tom  would  have  killed 
him  if  he  could  have  caught  him.  Tom's  hearing  was  after- 
wards restored;  he  made  a  good  soldier  and  still  survives. 

In  conversing  with  old  soldiers  whom  I  meet,  I  am  enabled 
to  gather  up  some  things  which  1  had  forgotten.  I  have  been 
informed  by  Mr.  Abram  Stork,  who  was  one  of  the  participants 
in  our  inglorious  defeat,  that  the  15th  S.  C.  V.  were  stationed 
at  Hilton  Head  at  the  time  of  its  capture,  and  says  his  regiment 
had  a  hard  old  time  escaping  from  there,  also;  he  looks  well — 
generous,  brave,  noble-hearted — long  may  he  live.  We  were 
very  anxious  that  this  regiment  should  be  assigned  to  the  same 
brigade  with  us,  as  there  was  one  company  in  it  from  Fairfield, 
Capt.  (afterwards  Col.)  John  B.  Davis,  but  the  fates  decreed 
otherwise,  and  they  were  assigned  to  a  different  brigade.  I 


15 


think  it  was  early  in  January,  1862,  that  Col.  Dunnovant  re- 
signed and  the  command  of  our  regiment  devolved  on  Dixon 
Barnes.  About  this  time  we  moved  over  some  distance  across 
Combahee  ferry  into  Colleton,  pitched  tents  in  the  woods  not 
far  from  one  Girardeau,  and  gave  it  the  name  of  Barnes,  in 
honor  of  our  Col.  Here  we  drilled,  did  picket  duty,  foraged 
and  rested.  Near  camp  was  a  fine  country  residence,  I  cannot 
now  remember  who  lived  there;  at  all  events,  there  were  ladies 
there,  and  every  day  we  could  see  gay.  nicely  uniformed  cav- 
alrymen visiting  them,  whilst  we  poor  foot  cavalry,  dirty  and 
ragged,  were  looked  upon  as  no  better,  if  as  good,  as  their  ser- 
vants. I  think  these  uniformed  gents  called  themselves  the 
Butledge  Mounted  Riflemen.  I  don't  know  whether  they  ever 
afterwards  distinguished  themselves  or  not,  but  long  after  the 
time  I  speak  of,  those  same  people  would  have  been  glad  for 
the  12th  Regiment  to  have  been  back  there  to  protect  them  and 
theirs.  At  this  camp  was  discovered  the  first  body  guard  .of 
our  regiment;  he  made  his  appearance  on  the  person  of  an  old 
fellow,  a  member  of  Co.  H;  he  multiplied  rapidly  and  spread 
through  the  regiment,  and  stayed  with  us  up  to  and  after  the 
close  of  the  war.  Some  time  in  February  we  were  moved  back 
near  Pocotaligo  and  picketed  again  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Pagis  Point  for  a  time;  here  we  had  a  new  enemy  to  contend 
with,  namely,  mosquitoes,  the  largest  and  hungriest  I  ever  saw, 
at  night,  and  through  the  day  the  blue-tailed  fly.  Here,  after 
the  tide  would  recede  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  were  myriads 
of  "fiddlers' ' — many  who  read  this  will  be  curious  to  know 
what  they  were;  well,  I  can  hardly  tell  you — they  are  a  kind  of 
insect  or  bug,  that  somewhat  resembles  a  small  crab,  with  but 
one  claw;  they  can  run  in  any  direction — forward,  backward, 
sideways  or  angling — and  so  active  are  they  that  it  is  next  to 
impossible  to  step  on  one;  they  make  and  live  in  holes  in  the 
earth  like  crawfish.  After  remaining  around  here  till  some 
time  in  March,  the  joyful  news  was  received  that  we  were  going 
to  Virginia,  and  we  were  ordered  to  pack  up,  cook  rations,  &c, 
which  we  did  in  a  hurry,  so  glad  were  we  to  get  away  from  the 
coast.  We  boarded  the  cars  at  Pocotaligo  and  were  soon  en 
route  for  Charleston,  where  we  arrived  about  sun-set,  and  were 


16 

marched  through  the  city  to  the  depot  of  the  South  Carolina 
Railway,  where  we  embarked  for  Columbia  about  10  o'clock. 

CHAPTEE  VI. 
Before  leaving  Charleston,  every  man  in  the  regiment  who 
had  ever  taken  a  drink  of  whiskey,  and  many  who  had  never 
taken  any,  supplied  himself  with  one  or  more  long-necked 
"Black  Betties;"  the  result  was  very  soon  a  lively,  noisy,  fussy 
crowd,  and  some  few  knock-down  and  drag-out  fights.  Co.  O 
had  again  disbanded — at  least,  until  we  knew  we  had  arrived 
where  there  were  Yankees  and  no  water  separating  them  from 
us.  We  were  on  the  cars  all  night  and  reached  Columbia  about 
10  o'clock  next  day.  We  tarried  but  a  short  time  and  were 
soon  speeding  away  on  the  C,  C.  &  A.  Railroad.  A  good  many 
of  us  deserted  this  train  and  jumped  off  as  it  passed  our  differ- 
ent stations,  to  bid  adieu  to  fathers,  mothers,  brothers,  sisters, 
wives  and  children — some,  alas!  their  last  good-bye;  never 
more  were  they  to  clasp  hands  with  those  who  were  dearer  to 
them  than  life;  neither  do  those  they  loved  know  where  they 
sleep,  what  became  of  their  bodies,  whether  they  died  of  sick- 
ness, were  killed  in  battle  or  what — many  of  their  bodies  are 
mixed  with  Virginia  soil,  their  graves  unmarked;  here  they 
will  sleep,  soon  to  be  forgotten  (no  legend  to  tell  about  them) 
until  the  morning  of  the  final  resurrection.  Myself  and  several 
others  jumped  off  at  Ridgeway,  hoping  to  meet  our  dear  ones 
there,  but  were  sorely  disappointed,  they  not  having  heard  that 
we  were  going  to  pass  that  day.  Here  Mr.  Coleman,  an  old 
gentleman  who  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  miser  before  that, 
threw  open  his  doors  and  feasted  us  on  the  very  best  that  it  was 
possible  to  get.  We  remained  here  a  few  hours,  until  the  reg- 
ular passenger  train  came  along,  jumped  aboard  of  it  in  pursuit 
of  the  regiment,  which  we  overtook  as  they  were  rolling  into 
Charlotte.  Here  we  changed  cars  and  were  soon  speeding  it 
for  Weldon.  Our  train  broke  down  at  Concord  and  was  de- 
tained some  time;  here  the  Captain  of  Co.  O  began  to  recruit; 
he  enlisted  a  few  and  remained  there  several  days,  until  they 
were  ordered  to  rejoin  the  regiment  at  Richmond;  the  rest  of 
us  renewed  travel  as  soon  as  the  break-up  was  mended,  were 


17 


in  the  cars  all  night  and  reached  Weldon  the  next  morning. 
Our  company  numbered  over  100  men  and  were  in  two  cars;  I. 
as  Sergeant,  was  put  in  charge  of  one  car,  to  keep  order — still 
plenty  of  "Black  Betties"  on  hand;  one  of  our  men  with  whom 
I  had  a  little  spat  between  Charleston  and  Columbia  was  in  my 
ear,  and  annoyed  me  so  much  that  at  last,  by  order  of  Lieut.  J. 
W.  Delaney,  I  placed  him  under  arrest  and  kept  him  so  all 
night.  I  mention  this  fact  to  show  how  vindictive  some  men 
are,  and  later  on  how  he  thought  he  got  even  with  me.  We 
tarried  but  a  short  time  at  Weldon,  and  were  soon  under  way 
for  Richmond  via  Petersburg.  Arriving  in  Richmond  we  were 
assigned  quarters,  rations  were  issued  to  us  and  we  were  heroes 
in  the  eyes  of  the  ladies.  We  had  a  jubilee  of  a  time  for  a  few 
days,  when  we  were  marched  to  the  depot  of  the  Fredericksburg 
Railroad  and  were  soon  whirling  toward  the  Rappahannock,  in 
search  of  the  enemy.  We  disembarked  a  few  miles  South  of 
Fredericksburg,  at  a  place  called  Summit;  here  we  threw  out 
pickets  and  remained  a  few  days.  One  night  soon  after  our 
arrival  word  came  that  the  Yankees  were  advancing  down  the 
railroad;  we  were  soon  formed  in  line  of  battle  and  started,  like 
fools,  to  go  and  hunt  them  up  in  the  dark,  instead  of  remaining 
quiet  and  letting  them  attack  us.  Failing  to  find  the  enemy, 
next  day  we  moved  up  some  two  miles  from  Fredericksburg 
and  did  some  faithful  picket  duty  for  a  time.  I  remember  one 
night,  cold  and  drizzly,  John  Thomas  and  myself  were  put  in 
command  of  our  picket  liue,  which  was  stretched  out  for  a  long 
distance,  a  sentinel  every  ten  feet;  had  not  seen  a  Ynkee  yet. 


CHAPTER  VII. 
We  were  on  picket  duty  in  the  preceding  chapter  near  Ham- 
ilton's Crossing,  a  place  afterwards  made  memorable  by  the 
terrible  slaughter  of  Ambrose  E.  Burnside's  troops,  and  dear 
to  us,  among  other  losses,  in  the  death  of  our  gallant  General 
Maxcy  Gregg,  which  occurred  on  the  13th  of  December  follow- 
ing. I  was  not  engaged  in  this  battle,  therefore  can  know  but 
little  of  it.  Our  orders  were,  if  the  enemy  advanced  on  us.  to 
fire;  if  there  seemed  to  be  a  number  of  them,  to  rally  together 
and  keep  them  back  as  long  as  possible,  and  if  they  proved  too 


18 

much  tor  us,  to  fall  back  on  our  reserve.  If  the  Yankees  had 
only  known  it,  our  reserve  was  very  weak  at  this  time.  About 
11  o'clock  we  heard  the  report  of  a  rifle  ring  out  on  the  still  air 
to  our  extreme  right.  The  men,  or  some  of  them  (I  always 
thought  purposely),  pretended  to  misunderstand  our  orders,  for 
they  soon  rallied  together,  and  no  persuasion  could  keep  them 
from  falling  back  to  camp,  when  we  were  ordered  to  go  imme- 
diately back  to  our  same  positions.  That  was  a  false  alarm, 
caused  by  one  Dave  Matthews  getting  scared  at  a  rabbit  or 
being  lonesome  and  wanting  company.  In  rallying  to  go  back, 
one  of  our  men,  Bob  Eastler,  was  asleep,  knew  nothing  of  it 
and  tailed  to  put  in  an  appearance.  About  the  time  we  were 
getting  back  in  position  another  rifle  rang  out  away  to  the  left, 
and  I  felt  sure  that  Eastler  had  killed  his  next  man,  wrho  was 
Johnny  Fleming,  on  waking  up  and  mistaking  him  for  a  Yan- 
kee; but  such  was  not  the  case,  and  we  never  knew  who  fired 
the  second  rifle.  A  few  nights  after  this  we  were  ordered  to 
build  a  number  of  bonfires,  as  if  we  had  been  strongly  rein- 
forced; a  short  time  after  dark  we  began  our  silent  skedaddle 
toward  Eichmond,  and  all  night  long  we  split  the  mud — 
and  I  assure  you  it  was  muddy.  We  took  a  rather  circuitous 
route,  and  I  have  always  thought  we  could  have  been  easily 
bagged  if  the  enemy  had  only  known  what  a  small  force  we 
had.  The  next  day  about  12  o'clock  we  reached  some  station 
on  the  E.  &  F.  E.  E.,  and  remained  there  until  night.  On 
reaching  the  railroad  we  discovered  that  there  had  been  some 
other  troops  besides  ours  in  the  retreat  with  us — an  Alabama 
battalion,  who  seemed  to  be  mostly  foreigners.  They  had  a 
novel  way  of  settling  their  disputes;  if  two  of  them  fell  out 
and  could  not  agree,  their  commander  made  them  fight  it  out. 
Two  big  burly  fellows  had  disagreed  on  the  march ;  as  soon  as 
they  halted  and  stacked  arms,  although  foot-sore  and  hungry, 
at  it  they  went  and  had  one  of  the  hardest  set-to's  I  ever  sawr, 
until  their  friends  thought  they  had  punished  each  other  enough, 
when  the}7  were  separated  and  made  to  shake  hands — a  much 
better  way  of  settling  disputes  than  is  now  resorted  to  by  most 
of  the  rising  generation.  Soon  after  dark  we  were  embarked 
in  freight  cars  and  ran  down  to  or  near  Ashland,  and  moved 


1!) 


about  from  place  to  place  night  alter  night,  expecting  to  run  up 
with  the  enemy  at  any  moment.  A  short  time  after  this  we 
moved  South  of  the  Chickahominy,  in  sight  of  the  steeples  in 
Richmond,  and  camped  there.  Our  company  received  some 
recruits,  among  others,  I  remember,  Jake  Schwartz  and  Bob 
Goza,  mere  boys.  While  here  I  first  saw  a  man  who  had  been 
killed  by  the  enemy — a  sergeant  in  command  of  a  few  pickets; 
he  crossed  the  river,  there  being  no  enemies  in  sight,  but  they 
lay  in  ambush  just  beyond  the  river:  he  was  shot  through  the 
head  as  he  turned  to  give  some  command  to  his  men;  he  prob- 
ably belonged  to  the  9th  Alabama.  We  were  now  plainly  in 
sight  of  the  enemy  and  every  day  their  balloons  would  be  up, 
locating  our  positions:  our  artillerists  caused  one  to  go  down  in 
a  hurry  by  a  shot  from  "Long  Torn" — a  gun  captured  from  the 
enemy  at  Bull  Run.  At  night  the  bands  on  each  side  would 
play  their  favorite  tunes — ours  Dixie  and  theirs  Yankee  Doodle; 
sometimes  one  or  the  other  would  strike  up  Home,  Sweet  Home, 
when  snch  a  yell  would  go  up  from  both  sides! 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
The  1st  Georgia  Regulars  were  camped  near  us,  and  while 
we  were  kept  under  pretty  strict  discipline,  it  was  nothing 
compared  to  theirs — they  drilled  more  or  less  all  the  time.  I 
went  out  near  their  quarters  one  day  and  was  horror-stricken 
at  seeing  a  poor  fellow  lying  on  his  side  in  the  broiling  sun, 
bucked  and  gagged:  I  never  found  out  what  he  had  done. 
While  here  our  brigade  was  organized;  it  consisted  of  the  1st, 
12th,  13th,  14th  and  Orr's  Rifle  Regiment,  and  I  don't  believe 
there  was  a  better  brigade  in  the  Confederate  army.  Maxcy 
Gregg  was  our  Brigadier  and  A.  P.  Hill  Major  General.  Xot 
long  after  we  had  been  here  the  memorable  fight  of  Seven  Pines 
occurred:  we  were  not  called  into  action,  but  could  distinctly 
hear  the  constant  rattle  of  musketry,  the  booming  of  cannon 
and  even  the  thrilling  rebel  yell  of  our  troops;  could  plainly 
see  three  or  four  balloons  up  on  the  Yankee  side  and  the  men 
in  the  basket  under  them;  but  still  we  were  permitted  to  remain 
quiet  and  were  very  well  satisfied  to  do  so.  After  this  battle 
things  quieted  down  and  the  armies  on  each  side  seemed  to  for- 


tit'y  and  watch  each  other  across  the  swampy  Chickahominy  for 
a  good  long  while — the  only  sound  of  war  being  the  daily  artil- 
lery duel  between  the  opposing  batteries,  in  which  very  little 
was  accomplished  except  a  waste  of  powder  and  ball.  At  last 
Gen.  Lee  became  tired  of  such  warfare  and  determined  by  one 
bold  stroke  to  either  destroy  McClellan's  powerful  army  or  else 
drive  him  away  from  Richmond.  On  the  afternoon  of  June  26, 
L862,  our  Left  swiftly  drove  back  the  enemy,  the  pickets  crossed 
the  Chickahominy  and  were  pouring  into  them  in  fine  style 
before  they  were  aware  of  what  was  going  on.  Our  brigade 
was  soon  hurried  over,  but  was  not  engaged  that  evening,  al- 
though under  fire  in  range  of  their  shells,  which  were  constantly 
bursting  over  our  heads;  we  had  to  lay  low  and  hug  the  ground. 
Our  troops  continued  to  drive  them  back  until  long  after  night- 
fall, the  flashes  from  the  guns  looking  like  lightning  and  the 
reports  of  the  cannon  resembling  thunder;  the  slaughter  was 
great  on  both  sides,  and  many  poor  children  had  been  made 
orphans  and  lovely  women  widows  in  one  short  evening's  work. 
The  next  morning  we  formed  in  line  along  a  public  highway; 
very  soon  Gen.  Hill  passed  along  on  foot,  speaking  to  the  men 
words  of  encouragement.  We  were  then  ordered  to  advance  in 
line  as  skirmishers,  but  had  not  gone  more  than  half  a  mile  be- 
to  r<>  i  heir  sldrmishers  began  to  fire  upon  us,  after  which  they 
retreated  over  a  hill  out  of  sight;  on  our  arriving  at  the  brow 
Of  the  hill  they  fired  a  volley  from  ambush,  about  150  yards  olf 
and  beyond  a  ditch  or  channel,  wounding  John  Eosborough,  of 
our  company,  near  the  knee — I  distinctly  heard  the  ball  when 
it  struck  him.  The  enemy  were  out  of  sight  under  the  trees; 
we  were  ordered  to  charge,  which  we  did.  The  branch  or  ditch 
before  spoken  of  was  only  about  six  or  eight  feet  wide  (too  far 
to  jump)  and  full  of  water  to  the  depth  of  3?  or  4  feet;  into  this 
we  had  to  plunge,  getting  thoroughly  wet  to  the  waist,  but  we 
clambered  out  and  hurried  into  the  thicket  from  whence  they 
had  last  fired  upon  us,  to  find  no  enemy — only  a  few  knapsacks 
which  they  had  left  in  their  flight.  I  snatched  up  one,  ripped 
it  open  and  appropriated  some  fine  cigars,  writing  paper  and  a 
bunch  of  envelopes — they  were  the  only  things  I  felt  that  I 
could  carry.    If  any  of  the  enemy  who  were  in  front  of  us  at 


21 


that  time  shoald  happen  to  read  this,  he  will,  no  doubt,  remem- 
ber the  following  lines,  which  were  neatly  printed  on  the  enve- 
lopes, under  a  fancy  colored  Federal  flag: 

The  reserve  boys  are  tin-  band 
To  drive  rebellion  from  our  Land; 
With  shot  and  shell  and  Yankee  trick. 
We'll  put  the  rebels  to  double  quick: 
And  should  they  chance  to  look  behind, 
Close  at  their  heels  the  boys  they'll  find. 

From  this  Ave  inferred  that  the  chaps  who  were  making  such 
good  time  in  front  of  us  were  the  Pennsylvania  reserves,  as 
later  in  the  fight  we  captured  some  gents  who  claimed  to  belong- 
to  that  command,  as  well  as  some  of  the  Pennsylvania  "Buck- 
tails."  each  member  of  which  wore  a  buck-tail  in  his  cap. 


CHAPTEE  JX. 
We  pushed  on  from  where  we  had  captured  the  knapsacks 
and  presently  came  to  hundreds  of  deserted  tents,  wagons,  &c. 
but  no  enemy;  after  passing  these  tents  perhaps  a  half  a  mile, 
their  skirmishers  began  firing  at  us  at  long  range;  never  halt- 
ing, we  pushed  on  until  we  came  near  a  mill  (whether  Gaines' 
or  not,  I  can't  say,  as  we  had  neither  time  nor  inclination  to 
inquire  and  no  one  to  inquire  of. )  Beyond  the  creek  a  few  blue 
coats  were  seen,  and  here  was  displayed  what  troops  will  do  in 
the  excitement  under  their  first  fire — the  entire  regiment,  as  if 
by  magic,  blazed  away  in  one  simultaneous  volley  at  about  a 
dozen  Yankees;  no  aim  being  taken,  many  balls  ploughed  up 
the  ground  not  twenty  feet  ahead  of  us,  while  others  clipped 
the  limbs  from  the  trees  thirty  feet  from  the  ground;  the  noise 
of  this  volley,  however,  caused  the  enemy,  to  (as  common  ex- 
pressions among  them)  dust,  burn  the  wind  and  sift  sand.  We 
crossed  the  stream  on  the  mill-dam  and  just  beyond  came  to  a 
sutler's  large  tent,  where  almost  anything  desired  was  found — 
some  whiskey  (all  who  wished  got  a  drink),  nice  crackers,  a 
preparation  of  coffee,  sugar  and  condensed  milk  in  cans,  very 
nice,  and  hundreds  of  beautiful  black  plumes — every  man  who 
wished  put  one  in  his  hat:  Lieut.  S.  Y.  Bosborough,  of  our 
company,  jestingly  declared  that  all  who  wore  them  would  get 
shot,  as  they  would  prove  good  targets  for  the  enemy.  Whether 
his  prediction  was  correct,  or  whether  by  chance,  it  was  pretty 


22 


well  verified,  as  most  of  us  who  donned  them  caught  a  ball  be- 
fore this  series  of  battles  was  over.  After  waiting*  here  a  short 
while  we  pushed  on  and  soon  came  to  a  heap  of  burning  com- 
missi! r\  stores,  bacon,  coffee,  sugar,  bread,  flour  and  everything 
imaginable;  here  the  shells  came  shrieking,  crashing  through 
the  woods  over  our  heads,  as  well  as  an  occasional  Minnie.  The 
whole  line  was  ordered  to  charge;  a  few  of  the  enemy  were 
captured,  the  others  lit  out  in  a  hurry.  We  now  came  out  into 
a  public  highway,  near  a  church,  and  rested  again  to  await 
orders;  while  here  some  of  the  prisoners  were  brought  past  us; 
one  fellow  had  to  be  pushed  along  and  cuffed  a  little  to  make 
him  go  to  the  rear.  He  said  to  his  captor:  "G —  d —  you,  I'll 
report  you  to  the  officer  of  the  day;  I  belong  to  the  57th  Mass- 
achusetts Regiment;  wrhat  regiment  do  you  belong  tof  The 
reply  was:  "I  belong  to  the  1st  South  Carolina,  and  if  you  don't 
go  on  I'll  hurt  you."  Drunk  as  he  was,  he  seemed  to  wilt  when 
he  heard  the  name  South  Carolina  Volunteers,  and  marched  off 
quite  handsomely.  An  old  Yankee  horse  had  been  captured, 
and  Maj.  Cad.  Jones  mounted  him  and  charged  along  our  lines; 
he  wras  greeted  heartily  by  yells  from  the  entire  command.  At 
this  point  Gen.  Stonewall  Jackson  formed  a  junction  with  us, 
having  swooped  down  from  the  valley;  we  had  never  seen  him 
before,  and  all  eyes  were  strained  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  this 
great  man,  of  whom  we  had  heard  so  much  and  of  whom  in  this 
tight  we  expected  so  much — the  very  knowledge  of  his  being 
here  appeared  to  add  new  bravery  to  our  whole  force.  We  took 
a  road  leading  to  the  right,  he  one  leading  to  the  left  and  appa- 
rently in  almost  an  opposite  direction  from  us;  we  suspected 
he  was  going  to  make  one  of  his  memorable  flank  movements, 
which  proved  to  be  the  case.  We  continued  to  advance  some 
distance  without  encountering  the  enemy;  presently  they  blazed 
away  at  us  and  again  ran;  all  disappeared  except  one  poor  fel- 
low, who  seemed  to  have  been  cut  off  from  his  command,  and 
undertook  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  the  whole  regiment  in  rather 
an  oblique  direction,  about  75  or  100  yards  in  front  of  us;  he 
succeeded  very  well  for  along  distance — it  was  crack!  crack! 
until  I  suppose  fifty  shots  had  been  fired,  still  he  ran;  at  last 
Bill  Kichardson,  of  our  company,  who  was  a  splendid  shot,  laid 


23 


his  rifle  up  by  a  tree,  took  aim  and  fired;  the  fleeing  Yankee 
toppled  over,  badly  wounded  through  the  hips:  he  immediately 
palled  out  his  handkerchief  and  waved  it,  as  a  token  for  us  to 
fire  on  him  no  more.  Poor  fellow,  I  saw  him  twenty-four  hours 
later,  still  where  he  fell  and  alive:  I  hope  he  is  still  living. 


CHAPTER  X. 
In  our  last  we  arrived  where  our  friend  in  blue  had  fallen, 
trying  to  make  his  escape;  the  rest  of  his  comrades  made  good 
time,  as  we  saw  no  more  of  them  as  skirmishers.  About  this 
time  we  heard  the  report  of  a  cannon  in  front  of  us,  a  mile 
away:  then  another  and  another — the  solid  shot  and  shell  whis- 
tling over  our  heads  and  arouud;  still  we  pressed  forward  until 
we  came  out  on  a  road  in  plain  view  of  his  guns;  we  knew  now 
that  we  had  the  enemy  at  bay  and  that  he  intended  to  give  us 
the  best  he  had  in  his  shop.  Our  own  batteries  were  run  up 
and  began  to  reply  to  their  guns,  we  lying  behind  them,  getting 
the  benefit  of  bursting  shells;  very  soon  they  had  killed  some 
of  our  horses  and  wounded  several  cannoneers.  We  were  or- 
dered forward  and  passed  our  batteries  at  a  double  quick,  get- 
ting the  full  benefit  of  their  artillery  and  long  range  rifles  from 
the  hill  beyond,  a  deep  ravine  lying  between  us;  down  the  slant 
we  charged  until  we  reached  the  ravine,  where  we  were  com- 
paratively safe,  except  from  bursting  shells  that  exploded  over 
our  heads  from  imperfect  fuses.  A  line  of  skirmishers  was  sent 
forward  to  ascertain  if  possible  the  position  of  the  enemy;  these 
were  subjected  to  a  destructive  enfilading  fire  from  the  right, 
and  fell  back  to  the  ravine.  We  were  ordered  to  form  line  of 
battle  and  Gen.  Gregg  gave  the  awful  command:  "1st  and  12th 
South  Carolina  Volunteers,  forward!"  We  advanced  in  noble 
order  forty  or  fifty  yards,  when  we  came  into  range  of  the  ene- 
my's sharp-shooters,  who  began  to  pop  away  at  us  in  earnest, 
and  whistling  Minnies  caused  some  lively  dodging;  I  heard  a 
Minnie  strike  a  man  on  my  left,  glanced  around,  and  there  was 
Arthur  Hays  on  his  knees  and  hands,  the  blood  spouting  in  jets 
from  his  neck,  and  I  felt  as  if  we  would  see  him  alive  no  more; 
we  had  no  time  to  halt,  as  the  grape  and  canister  from  in  front 
admonished  us  that  this  was  no  place  to  stop.    A  few  minutes 


24 


Inter,  in  passing  an  old  house,  it  was  struck  by  a  24-pound  solid 
shot  and  knocked  to  splinters,  the  fragments  from  the  building 
knocking  down  and  wounding  quite  a  number  of  men;  I  can't 
remember  who  now,  but  that  Lieut.  J.  A.  Hinnant  was  one; 
we  reached  the  crest  of  the  hill  about  100  yards  from  this  point 
and  were  met  by  a  most  terrible  shower  of  grape  shot  from  a 
battery  which  was  said  consisted  of  eighteen  guns,  behind  a 
kind  of  basin  in  our  immediate  front,  and  in  which  were  thou- 
sands of  blue  coats,  who  also  poured  a  volley  into  us.  Seeing 
the  impossibility  of  attempting  a  further  advance,  we  were  or- 
dered to  fall  back  to  the  ravine:  in  falling  back,  Bob  Pogue,  of 
our  company,  was  wounded.  We  had  got  confused  and,  I  may 
say,  tangled  up,  and  before  we  had  time  to  get  properly  in  line 
were  ordered  forward  again;  a  line  of  battle  was  advancing  on 
us  iii  front  about  200  yards;  the  general  impression  among  us 
was  that,  as  they  were  not  firing,  they  were  Gen.  Stonewall 
Jackson's  men,  who  had  flanked  around  to  the  enemy's  rear; 
Capt.  Clyburn  (then  a  boy  captain)  ordered  some  of  his  men 
to  fire,  which  they  did,  and  the  officer  commanding  the  troops, 
who  had  his  sword  and  hat  in  his  hand,  fell  from  his  horse;  si- 
multaneously they  poured  a  volley  into  our  disordered  regiment 
and  the  fight  now  became  general  along  the  whole  line;  volley 
after  volley  of  musketry  mingled  with  the  booming  of  cannon 
told  of  the  awful  carnage  that  was  going  on.  In  a  short  time 
we  were  reinforced  by  some  Alabama  troops,  who  dashed  over 
and  through  us  and  finally  swept  the  field  in  our  front,  though 
not  without  fearful  loss  of  life  on  both  sides.  In  this  fight  we 
lost  Lieut.  J.  W.  Delaney  and  A.  0.  Braswell,  of  our  company, 
killed  out  l  ight,  and  Win.  T.  Mickle  and  John  S.  Richardson, 
mortally  wounded,  besides  a  great  many  others  whom  I  cannot 
recall,  seriously  and  slightly  wounded. 


CHAPTER  XL 
In  our  last  we  were  under  fire  at  Gaines'  Mill;  the  battle 
raged  until  after  nightfall:  Jackson's  guns  did  open  on  the  en- 
emy's rear  that  afternoon.  We  lay  on  the  field  of  battle  and 
could  hear  the  shrieks  and  groans  of  the  wounded  and^dying 
all  night.    Our  regiment  suffered  considerably  in  this  fight — in 


fact,  every  regiment  in  the  brigade  suffered  more  or  less.  The 
next  morning  we  were  a  pitiable  multitude  to  behold — haggard, 
hungry,  sleepy,  and  a  field  in  front  covered  with  blood,  dead 
and  dying,  gnus,  knapsacks,  canteens,  &c.  A  small  ration  was 
issued  to  us  and  a  little  whiskey,  and  we  were  detailed  to  per- 
form the  mournful  task  of  burying  our  own  and  the  enemy's 
dead.  We  made  a  rude  coffin  for  John  Delane3r,  wrapped  his 
blanket  around  him  and  buried  his  body  as  best  we  could;  two 
empty  flour  or  cracker  barrels  constituted  Clark  Braswell's 
burial  case;  we  marked  their  head-boards,  but  I  daresay  there 
is  no  mark  of  a  grave  now,  although  I  believe  I  could  go  to  the 
very  spot.  We  dug  pits  in  which  to  bury  the  enemy's  dead 
near  to  where  they  lay  the  thickest — I  distinctly  remember 
putting  nineteen  of  them  in  a  pit  6  feet  by  24  and  about  18 
inches  deep.  Our  command  was  assigned  to  bury  the  dead  on 
a  certain  portion  of  the  battle  field:  this  task  done,  we  had  an 
opportunity  of  visiting  other  portions  of  the  field,  down  to  our 
right,  and  came  to  where  there  had  been  terrible  fighting — our 
own  dead  had  been  buried,  but  those  of  the  enemy  still  lay 
there;  at  this  point  they  had  been  strongly  fortified,  having 
built  breastworks  of  tremendous  logs  on  the  bank  of  a  straight 
branch  or  large  ditch  of  running  water;  there  was  a  steep  hill 
about  100  yards  in  front  of  them,  from  which  our  men  had  to 
charge  these  breastworks;  in  rear  of  the  enemy  was  a  similar 
hill;  our  forces  had  ronted.them  with  loss,  and  afterwards  they 
caught  it  climbing  the  hill,  as  their  dead  testified — the  ground 
was  literally  blue  with  the  corpses  of  bloated  Yankees.  From 
the  evidences  we  saw,  they  must  have  had  a  goodly  number  of 
women  with  them — there  were  ladies'  dresses,  hoop-skirts,  fans, 
band-boxes,  etc.,  but  we  saw  no  dead  women — only  signs  of 
their  having  been  there;  here,  too,  were  drums  and  balloon 
fixtures;  we  also  passed  our  friend  who  had  attempted  to  run 
the  gauntlet  of  our  regiment's  fire  the  day  before — some  ureb" 
had  spread  a  small  tent  fly  over  him  and  given  him  a  canteen 
of  water.  All  day  McClellau  was  sullenly,  heroicalhT  and  in  a 
soldierly  way  conducting  his  unexpected  retreat,  contending 
every  inch  of  ground;  but  we  had  his  troops  considerably  de- 
moralized and  they  were  being  driven  back;  thousands  of  pri- 
soners were  carried  by  us  to  Eichmond  all  day  long.    The  next 


26 


day  (Sunday)  we  recrossed  the  Chickahoniiny  and  followed  on 
dow  n  the  river.  That  afternoon,  away  to  our  left,  we  saw  a 
sudden  cloud  of  smoke  burst  forth  as  if  from  a  volcano,  followed 
by  a  noise  like  heavy  thunder,  fairly  shaking  the  earth;  we  af- 
terwards learned  that  it  was  caused  by  the  enemy  loading  a 
train  of  cars  with  ammunition,  provisions,  &c.,  turning  it  loose 
to  jump  off  into  the  river,  the  trestle  being  gone,  to  prevent  it 
from  falling  into  our  hands.  Monday  afternoon  we  came  upon 
the  enemy  agaiD  at  or  near  White  Oak  Swamp — they  were  being 
sorely  pressed  by  our  forces;  Gen.  Jenkins'  brigade  was  in  front 
of  us.  Alter  remaining  under  their  bursting  shells  for  a  time, 
we  were  ordered  forward.  I  remember  passing  a  house  where 
the  trees  were  loaded  with  the  largest  ripe  cherries  lever  saw 
and  wanted  some  of  them  badly,  but  had  no  time  to  halt. 
Suddenly  we  came  within  reach  of  their  fire,  and  soon  after  I 
received  a  bullet  through  my  left  elbow,  about  the  same  time 
Frank  Eosborough  stopped  a  ball,  and  we  started  for  the  rear 
and  don't  see  how  we  missed  being  shot  in  the  back;  we  had  to 
cross  a  fence  and  the  balls  were  striking  as  thick,  it  seemed,  as 
hail  stones  in  a  storm;  we  got  scattered  and  I  lost  Frank.  I 
passed  the  house  where  I  had  seen  the  cherries,  but  didn't  want 
any  now;  the  house  had  been  converted  into  a  hospital  for  our 
wounded,  and  in  passing  I  heard  some  one  calling  Dr.  Sykes, 
who  answered  near  me.  I  also  called  him,  thinking  it  was  Dr. 
W.  B.  Sykes,  with  whom  I  was  well  acquainted;  he  came  to 
where  I  was  and  I  discovered  my  mistake — he  proved  to  be  the 
surgeon  of  an  Alabama  regiment;  I  requested  him  to  dress  my 
wound;  he  said  he  had  too  many  of  his  own  wounded  to  attend 
to,  that  I  would  soon  come  to  where  our  own  surgeons  were, 
pulled  out  his  canteen  and  gave  me  some  brandy,  which  did  me 
a  great  deal  of  good;  I  bid  him  good-bye  and  began  my  search. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
I  left  off  before  finishing  about  being  in  search  of  our  hospital. 
It  was  dark  and  I  had  a  further  search.  But  it  was  remarkable 
the  number  of  stragglers  I  came  across — fellows  who  had  been 
bomb-shocked,  sick,  broke-down,  etc.  They  had  good  fires, 
which  felt  comfortable  in  the  Chickahominy  swamp  this  last 


27 


night  of  June.  I  sat  down  by  one  of  these  fires — could  not  lie 
down,  my  arm  pained  me  so  severely;  I  could  not  sleep.  The 
next  morning  J  found  oursurgeon,  who  probed  and  dressed  my 
wound  and  told  me  to  go  to  Richmond.  !  happened  to  meel  a 
wagon  which  was  going  there  and  go1  a  ride.  On  reaching 
Richmond  I  went  to  the  hospital  (Bird's  Island),  where  I  found 
an  uncle,  W.  T.  Mickle,  who  had  been  shot  through  the  lungs 
at  Gaines'  Mill,  on  the  evening  of  the  27th.  He  was  cheerful 
and  I  had  hopesof  his  recovery.  1  had  a  thirty  days'  furlough 
and  transportation  home  in  my  pocket,  and  the  next  morning 
took  the  train  homeward.  I  reached  there  in  safety  and  was  a 
hero  in  the  neighborhood,  being  the  only  wounded  Confederate 
near  there.  I  did  not  suffer  for  want  of  attention,  and  my 
wound  healed  tolerably  last,  but  my  arm  seemed  as  if  it  was 
going  to  grow  crooked.  At  the  expiration  of  thirty  days  my 
wound  was  still  very  sore  and  I  was  unfit  for  duty.  I  came  to 
Columbia  and  was  hospitably  entertained  at  the  Ladies'  Way- 
side Hospital.  God  bless  the  ladies  of  Columbia,  who  were  the 
first  to  inaugurate  a  wayside  house  for  our  poor  sick,  wounded, 
half-fed,  half-clothed  soldiers.  Many  prayers  have  been  of- 
fered up  to  Heaven  for  blessings  on  them  that  they  have  little 
dreamed  of.  Dr.  R.  H.  Edmunds  was  the  surgeon  in  charge. 
I  am,  indeed,  sorry  that  I  cannot  remember  the  names  of  the 
ladies  who  were  there,  feeding  and  looking  after  those  sick  and 
wounded,  yes,  and  well  Confederate  soldiers,  who  were  passing 
on  every  train.  If  I  knew  their  names  I  should  certainly  tell 
to  the  young  and  rising  generation  who  they  were.  I  did  not 
remain  long  when  I  made  this  visit  to  Columbia.  I  came  twice 
for  the  purpose  of  having  my  furlough  extended.  I  stretched 
that  furlough  by  extension  as  long  as  possible.  Col.  John  S. 
Preston  was  post  commander  at  Columbia  then,  and  he  was 
certainly  one  of  the  kindest,  most  humane  gentlemen  I  struck 
up  with  during  the  war.  I  attended  the  theatre  during  one  of 
my  trips  to  Columbia.  Singing  "Home,  Sweet  Home."  was 
part  of  the  programme,  and  I  well  remember  seeing  the  tears 
trickling  down  the  cheeks  of  several  brawny,  stalwart  soldiers 
in  that  audience.  Poor  fellows,  they  no  doubt  were  many 
miles  away  from  home,  and  the  very  name  brought  before  their 


28 


vision  the  forms  of  loved  ones  at  home,  whom,  perhaps,  they 
would  never  meet  again.  While  the  commandant  at  Columbia 
w  as  kind  and  humane,  as  I  have  said,  there  was  a  doctor  who 
was  as  heartless  as  a  rock.  Probably  one  cause  of  his  heartless- 
ness  was  because  he  had  never  been  to  "the  front,"  and  I  don't 
know  that  lie  ever  did  go.  If  he  is  alive,  he  knows.  His  name 
was  Horlbeck.  And  if  alive,  I  suspect  he  is  haunted  by  the 
shrinks  and  cries  of  some  of  those  poor  wounded  soldiers  who 
happened  to  fall  under  his  treatment  at  the  old  South  Carolina 
College  Hospital.  He  did  not  get  a  chance  to  torture  me, 
although  he  was  very  anxious  to  do  so.  On  these  visits  to 
Columbia,  I  struck  up  with  an  acquaintance,  an  old  hospital 
rat,  who  was  serving  his  country  at  the  hospital  here.  I  won't 
mention  his  name,  for  although  he  would  not  fight  then,  per- 
haps he  might  want  to  fight  now,  and  I  give  him  fair  warning, 
as  well  as  everybody  else,  that  I  am  not  the  man  he  is  hunting. 
I  have  had  enough  fighting.  But  I  was  always  glad  to  meet 
him;  he  had  learned  the  ropes,  and  knew  where  a  little  sor- 
ghum and  persimmon  juice  could  be  had.  I  would  soft-solder 
him  and  he  has  paid  for  many  a  drink  for  he  and  myself.  I 
think  we  got  it  from  one  Huffman,  or  Mrs.  Huffman,  anyhow 
I  was  glad  to  get  it,  it  would  revive  the  feelings.  On  one  of 
these  visits  I  wanted  to  draw  my  pay,  and  found  an  officer  of 
my  command,  who  had  struck  up  with  another  officer  of  another 
command.  They  were  both  "how  come  you  so,1'  and  I  was 
detained  some  time  in  getting  my  officer  to  endorse  my  pay 
roll.  They  had  a  room  in  the  old  hotel  which  stood  where 
the  post  office  now  is  and  was  kept  by  Tom  Minton.  My  officer 
was  a  good  man,  except  for  this.  He  and  his  comrade  have 
both  passed  "over  the  river"  to  the  place  where  war  is  no  more. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
In  studying  over  those  times  and  scenes,  my  mind  reverts  to 
something  that  I  had  forgotten — something  in  which  a  noble 
soul  took  part;  and  I  feel  as  if  he,  if  living,  should  know  he  is 
remembered,  or,  if  dead,  it  ought  to  be  a  monument  to  his 
memory.  On  one  of  these  visits,  for  the  purpose  of  having  my 
furlough  extended,  the  surgeon  wanted  to  wrench  my  wounded 


29 


arm  to  make  it  straight;  I  knew  it  would  be  all  right  in  time 
without  this,  and  refused  to  allow  it  to  be  done,  when  he  flatly 
refused  to  recommend  an  extension  of  furlough  to  me.  I  went 
away,  determined  to  rejoin  my  regiment  rather  than  be  tortured 
by  him.  I  heard  that  Gen.  Jenkins  was  in  the  city,  hunted 
him  up  and,  although  I  did  not  belong  to  his  brigade,  knew  he 
was  a  brave  man  and  what  it  was  to  be  a  soldier;  I  stated  the 
case  to  him,  he  went  with  me  to  Gen.  Preston  and  requested 
him  to  grant  me  an  extension,  which  he  did.  By  the  time  it 
expired  my  arm  was  well  and  I  took  the  cars  for  my  regiment, 
which  was  then,  I  believe,  at  Hamilton's  Crossing;  on  the  train 
I  met  John  A.  Eobertson,  of  my  company,  and  we  had  a  good 
deal  of  fun  before  we  reached  Richmond;  on  the  train  was  an 
officer  from  a  Florida  regiment — I  can't  remember  his  name; 
he  had  but  one  eye,  but  he  was  a  daisy;  there  were  also  two 
Irishmen,  members  of  the  Louisiana  Tigers,  who  enlivened  the 
time  by  singing  war  songs,  one  of  which  had  reference  to 
Burnside's  defeat  at  Fredericksburg — it  ran  somewhat  thus: 

'Twas  rip  and  rip  on  either  side,  and  neither  thought  'twas  best, 
The  Yankees  and  the  rebels  were  fighting  bivast  to  breast; 
Burnside  rode  up  and  took  command  and  straightened  in  his  saddle. 
He  waved  his  sword  and  gave  command,  '  Right  about  and  skedaddle!" 
Chorus — Oh!  let  'em  bomb;  oh!  let  'em  come. 
The  way  is  always  clear; 
For  while  they  are  a  bombing. 
We'll  take  them  in  the  rear. 

At  a  station  in  North  Carolina  these  two  fellows  got  out,  picked 
up  a  pig  which  was  feeding  about,  brought  it  in  the  train  and, 
when  remonstrated  with  by  some  of  us  about  it,  said  it  tried  to 
bite  them;  they  carried  it  to  Richmond  and  sold  it  for  $25.  I 
had  bought  a  little  white  spotted  dog  at  Raleigh  for  $5  and  sent 
it  home  by  express,  and  thought  the  man  I  bought  from  made 
a  good  sale,  but  was  well  satisfied  after  seeing  my  Tiger  friends 
make  their  sale.  We  found  that  Gen.  Gregg  had  been  killed 
during  our  absence  and  we  were  now  under  a  new  commander, 
Sam.  McGowan.  I  feel  proud  that  I  had  the  fortune  to  belong- 
to  a  brigade  that  has  since  the  war  furnished  so  many  of  those 
who  fill  high  and  exalted  positions — I  can  point  with  pride  to 
Simpson,  McGowan,  Haskell,  Cothran,  AVitherspoon,  Norton, 
McCrady,  Richbourg,  Armstrong,  Clyburn  and  a  host  of  others 
I  cannot  recall.    Then  I  think  of  the  heroic  dead — Barnes, 


30 


Miller,  Davis,  Bookter — all  at  one  time  or  other  Colonels  of  my 
regiment;  then  of  Delaney,  Rosborough,  Talley,  Turnipseed, 
Buchanan,  Poag,  Prioleau — this  is  not  half;  then  of  the  count- 
less hosts  of  those  who  were  killed  or  died  from  disease  during 
and  since  the  war,  who,  while  they  belonged  to  the  ranks,  did 
the  fighting,  and  their  memory  is  as  dear  to  us  as  any;  I  wish  I 
could  recall  them  all  to  mind — some  of  them  and  myself  have 
enjoyed  many  mirthful  hours  together.  At  this  moment  I  can 
recall  from  memory  Albert  Carter,  Wm.  Bishop,  Jas.  Farmer, 
Dick  Xealy,  George  Smith,  Bob  Gozer,  Ben.  Schwartz.  George 
Sweatman,  Frauk  Durham,  Joe  Rose,  Sam.  Rose,  Riley  Davis, 
G.  C.  Davis,  John  Fleming,  Frank  and  Wylie  Wyrick,  W.  R. 
T.  Smith.  Wm.  H.  Smith,  Wm.  W.  Smith,  Bill  Rush,  Dolph, 
Jim  and  Joe  Dunlap,  John  Lucas,  Wm.  Downing,  Geo.  Simp- 
son, John,  Wm.,  Reuben  and  J.  S.  Richardson,  Mike  Dinkle, 
Enoch  Freeman,  Jim  Rosborough,  W.  S.  Mickle,  Joe  Dunn, 
Rolling  Moss,  Rolling  and  Hasting  Reynolds,  Wm.  Duren,  Clark 
Braswell,  Anthony  Rains,  John  Broom,  Whit.  Robinson,  Wm. 
R  lines,  John  and  Ben.  Hays.  Tom  Paul,  J.  A.  Kennedy,  Frank 
and  Derrell  Douglas,  Wm.  Cook,  Billy  Cook,  John  and  Wm. 
Freeman,  Geo.  and  Jesse  Hendrix,  Wm.  Ellis,  Lee  Brown,  Wm. 

Ayres,  Hood,  privates  and  non-commissioned  officers;  and 

commissioned  officers:  H.  C.  Davis,  J.  W.  Delaney,  S.  Y.  Ros- 
borough and  W.  C.  Buchanan;  also  a  pretty  extensive  list  from 
Co.  C — of  these  the  fate  of  three  was  never  known:  John  Lucas 
and  Frank  Durham,  lost  or  missing  in  battle,  and  A.  S.  Dunlap, 
left  with  the  wounded  at  Gettysburg;  the\T  never  deserted,  we 
knew — too  true  for  that.  This  is  another  thing  I  am  proud  to 
think  of — not  a  member  of  my  company  deserted  to  the  enemy; 
they  were  all  native  born  except  three — John  Fleming,  an  Irish- 
man. Mike  Dinkle.  a  German,  and  Wm.  Blake,  an  Englishman. 


CHAPTER  XI V. 
In  my  last  chapter  I  neglected  to  state  that  I  stopped  over  in 
Richmond,  for  a  night  and  day,  my  furlough  not  having  fully 
expired,  and  while  here  I  began  to  feel,  for  the  first  time,  that 
we  would  eventually  be  overpowered.  There  were  too  many 
gaily  dressed  gentlemen  wearing  citizen's  clothes,  besides  hun. 


31 


dreds,  yes,  I  might  almost  say  thousands,  who  sported  the 
uniforms  of  Confederate  officers — tln%'  uniforms  were  new  and 
clean,  and  showed  plainly  that  they  had  never  seen  any  service; 
they  evidently  held  some  soft,  bomb-proof  offices  of  some  kind. 
A  great  many  of  them  professed  to  be  provost  marshals.  There 
were  also  hundreds  of  soldiers  here  in  the  same  capacity,  who 
had  never  been  to  the  front,  and  had  never  seen  the  smoke  of 
battle,  unless  at  a  distance  of  several  miles,  while  we  were 
driving  McClellan  from  their  very  doors.  Altogether,  there 
were  too  many  soft  places  and  too  many  idlers.  These  chaps 
delighted  i:i  arreting  the  returning  soldiers  at  the  train  and 
marching  them  to  same  filthy  den  until  a  train  started  in  the 
direction  of  their  commands,  when  they  were  hustled  on  the 
train  like  a  parcel  of  cattle.  I  spent  my  time  at  the  South  Ca- 
rolina Soldiers'  Home,  presided  over  by  Mr.  Geo.  H.  McMaster, 
and  was  very  kindly  entertained,  as  well  as  I  could  possibly 
expect  at  the  time.  I  remember  seeing  his  little  daughter  dance 
for  us.  This  Avas  twenty -seven  years  ago;  she  is  now  married 
and  is  the  mother  of  several  children.  I  doubt  whether  she 
remembers  the  dancing,  or  hardly  even  of  ever  having  lived 
in  Eichmond,  or  of  hearing  the  cannon  roar,  when  fighting  was 
going  on  so  near;  she  was  then  quite  small.  When  we 
reached  our  regiment  we  found  part  of  them  doing  picket  duty 
on  the  Eappahannock,  about  two  miles  below  Fredericksburg. 
The  opposing  pickets  had  a  truce  at  that  time,  and  had  mu- 
tually agreed  not  to  annoy  each  other  by  firing  across  the 
river.  This  truce,  however,  was  of  short  duration.  While 
it  lasted  we  had  a  good  time  fishing  for  herring  with  dip  nets; 
the  river  seemed  alive  with  them.  About  a  week  after  this 
some  Alabama  troops  were  picketing  some  distance  below  us, 
when  a  little  Yankee  boat  came  sailing  up  the  river:  the  temp- 
tation was  so  great  they  could  not  resist,  but  fired  and  killed 
the  unsuspecting  crew;  this  started  again  the  daily  picket  firing 
across  the  river.  In  going  to  or  coming  from  our  posts  on  the 
river  bank  we  had  to  pass  over  a  little  rise  where  a  house  had 
been  burned  and  the  chimney  left  standing,  just  before  getting 
out  of  sight  of  one  of  their  picket  posts,  and  they  annoyed  us 
a  great  deal — while  they  struck  none  of  us.  they  moshed  several 


32 


Minnies  against  the  old  chimney;  we  found  that  the  balls  did 
not  come  from  the  post  opposite  us,  but  from  one  further  down 
out  of  sight;  I  proposed  to  some  of  our  fellows  that  we  slip 
down  and  try  to  get  a  shot  at  1  hem — four  of  our  men  and  myself 
stalled  in  search  of  this  post;  we  had  to  crawl  on  our  hands  and 
knees  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  before  getting  opx)osite  them;  we 
could  hear  them — they  were  playing  cards,  completely  hid  by  a 
el  amp  of  undergrowth ;  while  peering  to  get  a  glimpse  of  them, 
we  heardJlorses,  feet  coming  up  to  where  they'  were;  we  leveled 
and  fired  as  they  dashed  in  and  heard  them  cursing,  as  if  hurt; 
we  reloaded  as  soon  as  possible,  waiting  to  see  the  result;  in  a 
tew  moments  the  party  they  had  relieved  started  out  at  a  gallop 
in  single  file;  we  discharged  our  five  guns  at  them,  and  it  was 
amusing  to  see  how  they  lay  flat  and  endeavored  to  get  on  the 
opposite  sides  of  their  horses;  if  we  touched  any  of  them,  we 
never  knew  it — the  river  was  pretty  wide  at  this  point  and  they 
were  probably  500  yards  from  us:  Not  long  after  this  we  were 
moved  several  miles  lower  down  the  river  and  went  into  regular 
winter  quarters;  our  division  was  camped  here  and  we  literally 
cleared  over  100  acres  of  original  forest,  leaving  no  standing- 
trees.  Pender's  North  Carolina  Brigade  were  camped  on  one 
side  of  a  ravine  opposite  to  us  and  Lane's  North  Carolina  Bri- 
gade on  another  hill  near  us.  We  called  the  camp  Gregg,  in 
honor  of  our  departed  General.  While  here  there  was  a  vacancy 
in  our  company  as  also  in  Co.  D,  for  Lieutenant — John  Bosbo- 
rough  and  myself  were  opposing  candidates  in  my  company; 
Wade  Rives  and  I  forget  who  in  Co.  D.  I  received  more  votes 
than  my  competitor,  notwithstanding  one  of  his  relatives  bought 
votes  for  him,  so  it  was  said,  with  commissary  sugar;  and  here 
my  friend  that  I  had  to  put  under  arrest  on  our  being  first  car- 
ried to  Virginia,  remained  a  week  with  a  furlough  in  his  pocket 
so  as  to  get  to  vote  against  me;  Wade  Bives  was  elected  in  Co. 
D.  we  passed  examination  together  and  received  our  commis- 
sions at  the  same  time.  Our  tents,  bunks  or  whatever  they 
could  be  called,  were  made  with  poles  or  split  timber,  about  12 
feet  long,  leaned  against  a  ridge  pole  in  a  slanting  position,  and 
covered  like  old  time  potato  stacks  with  leaves  and  dirt,  having 
a  chimney  at  one  end,  the  funnel  being  empty  barrels;  they  were 


33 


quite  warm  and  four  or  five  men  slept,  cooked  and  eat  in  each. 
I  now  received  double  rations,  but  instead  of  deserting  my  old 
mess  I  continued  to  remain  with  them  and  we  all  eat  together. 
We  had  some  men  who  had  learned  to  be  adept  foragers,  and  I 
remember  sending  Bob  Easier  and  Tom  Howell  out  one  night 
to  get  some  cabbage,  which  they  said  they  had  seen  at  a  house 
not  far  from  camp;  they  got  several  heads  of  cabbage,  although 
fired  at  by  a  guard  in  the  yard;  we  cooked  them  and  eat  a  hearty 
meal  at  2  A.  M.,  as  1  did  not  wish  the  other  officers  to  know  of 
the  transaction.  Some  of  the  best  foraging  done  during  the 
war,  I  believe,  occurred  while  camped  here. 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Speaking  of  foraging,  reminds  me  of  an  incident  that  was 
hard  to  beat.  Tom  Howell  went  to  a  house  one  day  and  saw  a 
large  turkey  gobbler  go  sauntering  down  a  ravine  in  the  direc- 
tion he  had  to  go;  he  followed  behind,  giving  it  time  to  get  out 
of  sight  of  the  house;  very  soon  the  lady  missed  it,  ran  out  and 
inquired  of  Tom  about  her  bird;  he  pointed  in  another  direction 

and  said,  "Yonder  goes  your  d  d  old  turkey.7'    While  she 

went  in  the  direction  pointed  out,  Tom  captured  the  gobbler 
and  "lit  out."  Tom  was  a  good  one;  he  is  alive,  and  I  expect 
well  remembers  the  occurrence.  Here  we  drilled  every  day, 
when  the  weather  would  permit;  at  night  the  bands  of  the  14th 
South  Carolina  and  the  13th  North  Carolina  would  play  alter- 
nate pieees  from  their  respective  camps.  For  a  good  portion 
of  the  time  the  ground  was  covered  with  snow,  and  snow-ball 
battles  between  regiments  and  sometimes  brigades  were  of  fre- 
quent occurrence;  on  one  occasion  our  brigade  and  Geu.  Pend- 
er's became  engaged,  and  the  field  officers  were  out  on  horse- 
back and  took  part  in  the  sport — it  was  pretty  rough,  although 
seldom  any  serious  casualties.  At  this  camp  I  witnessed  a  cruel 
punishment  inflicted  on  two  men  belonging  to  Pender's  Brigade; 
they  had  attempted  to  desert  and  were  sentenced  to  be  whipped; 
poor  fellows!  they  were  stripped  to  the  waist  and  39  lashes  put 
on  their  bare  backs;  at  every  blow  the  blood  would  flow  down 
their  tender  flesh.  I  would  rather  have  died  than  for  it  to  have 
been  me.  We  would  often  hear  the  volleys  that  sent  some  poor 
deserting  fellow  to  his  long  home;  I  never  had  any  desire  to 


34 


witness  anything  of  the  sort.  One  species  of  punishment  in- 
flicted by  Gen.  Pender  on  his  men  was  to  make  them  march  all 
day  in  front  of  the  guard  tent  with  their  heads  stuck  through 
Hour  barrels — we  called  t  hem  wood  overcoats;  still  another  was 
riding  t  he  wooden  horse,  or  carrying  a  heavy  billet  of  wood  all 
day.  We  had  no  occasion  for  such  punishment  in  our  brigade. 
Nearly  every  day  would  bring  large  numbers  of  conscripts  to 
these  North  Carolina  regiments;  they  would  be  dressed  in  all 
kinds  of  style  and  subjected  to  such  jeers  as  "Come  out  of  that 
churn!"  "Come  out  of  them  boots!"  "Git  down  out  of  that  ' 
hat.  I  know  you  are  there,  for  I  see  your  legs  dangling  ont!" 
"Where  did  you  get  that  churn?  have  yon  got  your  family  hid 
in  t he  upper  story ?"  "Did  you  come  all  the  way  by  yourself?" 
•  1 1  o  w  did  you  leave  the  girls?' '  i ' Are  you  going  to  make  your 
visit  long!"  "Why  didn't  you  come  before  you  was  sent  for?" 
etc. — completely  bewildering  these  new-comers  and  giving  a 
taint  idea  what  a  rough  set  soldiers  are.  We  had  preaching 
Sundays,  when  the  weather  would  permit,  by  our  Chaplain,  Rev. 
C.  B.  Betts,  and  the  soldiers  manifested  a  deep  interest  in  the 
services;  on  one  occasion  he  gave  out  the  90th  Psalm,  I  believe 
it  was;  the  words  were:  "Lord,  who  is  he  that  can  to  Thee  give 
praises  lying  in  the  grave?"  and  the  whole  regiment  seemed  to 
join  in  the  singing,  led  by  John  Sloan,  of  Co.  F — poor  fellow!  I 
hope  he  is  singing  now  among  the  hosts  of  Heaven.  One  after- 
noon, while  the  snow  was  falling  in  tremendous  flakes,  the  wind 
how  ling  and  driving  it  in  every  direction,  the  drums  beat,  we 
were  formed  into  line  and  moved  for  what  point  we  knew  not; 
we  marched  several  miles  through  this  blinding  snow  in  the  di- 
rection of  Hamilton's  Crossing;  at  dark  halted  in  the  woods, 
without  fire,  and  nothing  but  green  wood;  soon  our  axes  were 
going  and  presently  the  woods  were  brilliant  with  burning  log 
heaps.  We  had  been  ordered  to  corduroy  the  road  for  several 
miles,  to  enable  our  wagons  to  haul  supplies  to  camp  over  the 
awful  roads,  and  were  here  some  time  before  finishing  our  part 
of  the  job;  finally  we  were  ordered  back  to  camp,  only  to  remain 
a  short  time,  before  we  were  called  away  on  important  business. 

CHAPTEB  XVI. 
From  Camp  Geegg  we  picketed  again  on  the  Eappahannock. 
One  day  orders  came  for  us  to  cook  three  days'  rations;  we  did 


so,  ami  what  we  had  as  allowance  for  three  days  would  have 
been  none  too  much  for  one.  The  long  roll  beat,  we  formed  in 
line,  the  roll  was  called  and  we  were  soon  marching  in  the  di- 
rection of  Fredericksburg;  arriving  on  the  field  where  Burnside 
had  been  defeated  a  few  months  before,  we  were  halted  and 
skirmishers  thrown  out.  The  enemy  were  cannonading  ns  from 
the  Stafford  heights  and  could  easily  keep  us  shelled  back  from 
the  river;  under  cover  of  this  shelling  they  placed  pontoons  in 
position,  threw  a  large  force  across  and  sent  a  strong  line  of 
skirmishers  out  in  the  direction  of  Hamilton's  Crossing.  Our 
skirmishers  were  soon  in  their  range,  and  popping  so  strongly 
that  they  had  to  fall  back  under  the  protection  of  their  cannon 
on  the  Stafford  hills;  here  a  skirmish  battle  raged  throughout 
the  day;  we  felt  sure  that  their  entire  army  would  be  thrown 
over  during  the  night  and  that  the  following  day  Fighting  Joe 
Hooker,  who  had  succeeded  Burnside.  would  attempt  to  give 
us  a  drubbing  on  the  spot  where  Burnside  had  skedaddled  from 
so  hastily.  Early  next  morning  we  were  agreeably  surprised  to 
find  they  had  recrossed  the  river  under  cover  of  darkness,  and 
no  enemy  were  in  sight  except  the  pickets  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  river;  but  we  soon  heard  firing  up  the  river  in  the  di- 
rection of  Kelley's  or  Ely's  Ford  and  were  soon  marching  there. 
We  now  heard  heavy  firing  in  front,  and  in  the  afternoon  came 
up  to  where  the  fighting  had  commenced;  here  we  saw  a  lookout 
they  had  erected  on  a  tall  tree.  Jnst  before  dark  we  filed  out 
from  the  road  into  the  woods  and  were  subjected  to  a  cross  fire 
from  the  enemy's  picket  in  front  and  our  own  in  rear;  fortu- 
nately, no  one  was  hurt  before  the  mistake  of  our  men  was  cor- 
rected; we  lay  down  to  rest,  after  placing  a  strong  picket  line  iu 
our  front;  we  were  on  a  small  spot  of  cleared  land,  with  woods 
in  front  and  all  around  us;  I  slept  but  little,  if  any,  brooding  on 
the  morrow;  all  night  I  could  hear  thousands  of  axes  in  front  of 
us.  Early  next  morniug  their  bugles  were  sounding*,  a  battery 
of  artillery  was  run  to  within  a  half  mile  of  us  and  were  soon 
sending  commissary -seekers,  as  we  called  them,  crashing  over 
our  heads:  our  artillery  ran  up  to  the  little  space  of  cleared 
land  and  sent  some  telling  shells  amongst  them.  AVe  were  now 
ordered  forward  in  line  of  battle  past  our  pickets,  to  find  their 


36 


infantry;  alter  advancing  several  hundred  yards  through  the 
thick  woods,  we  were  suddenly  treated  to  a  vollejT  from  ambush; 
only  a  lew  were  wounded,  each  got  under  cover  of  a  tree  or 
something  and  for  a  time  the  only  firing  was  when  a  man  from 
either  side  would  show  his  head.  xAbout  10  o'clock  we  were 
relieved,  fell  back  to  the  public  road  and  diverged  to  another 
in  the  direction  of  Eichmond;  for  some  distance  we  were  in 
sight  of  the  enemy's  cannon  on  a  hill  to  our  right,  winch  shelled 
us  rapidly;  we  kept  up  our  march  all  day — first  South,  the]] 
West,  then  North  and  North-west,  passing  an  old  iron  foundry 
on  the  way;  the  enemy  evidently  believed  wre  were  retreating — 
their  cavalry  charged  in  and  captured  part  of  onr  wagon  train, 
but  were  driven  off  by  a  Georgia  regiment.  A  short  time  only 
before  sun-down  we  struck  Fighting  Joe's  right  flank  and  took 
him  by  surprise,  many  of  the  regiments  being  on  dress  parade, 
while  others  were  cooking  and  eating — they  were  panic-stricken 
to  find  us  in  their  rear  almost,  were  driven  back  pell-mell  and 
suffered  terrible  loss,  until  those  still  in  rear  of  them  could  form 
sufficiently  to  check  the  advance  of  our  troops;  the  battle  raged 
until  a  good  wrhile  into  the  night.  This  eventful  night,  on  the 
eve  of  achieving  the  crowning  act  of  his  life,  our  beloved  Gen. 
"Stonewall"  received  his  death  wound,  and  that,  too,  at  the 
hands  of  his  own  men;  the  circumstances  are  so  well  known 
that  it  is  unnecessary  to  repeat  them  here.  We  lay  on  the  field 
of  battle,  and  the  next  day  our  regiment,  for  a  wonder,  was  not 
carried  into  the  renewred  fight,  but  put  on  provost  duty,  to 
gather  up  and  send  stragglers  to  the  front. 

CHAPTEE  XVII. 
It  would  seem  incredible,  but  it  is  nevertheless  true,  we  ga- 
thered  up  hundreds — yes,  I  may  say  thousands — of  men  who 
had  run  out  of  the  fight,  officers  as  well  as  privates;  we  formed 
them  in  squads  and  sent  them  to  the  front.  We  had  occasion  to 
visit  our  hospital  where  the  wounded  were  being  brought,  and 
tell  the  untarnished  truth  when  I  say  there  was  a  pile  of  arms 
and  legs  as  large  as  a  good-sized  house.  All  day  we  could  hear 
the  rattle  of  musketry  and  roar  of  cannon,  as  "Fighting  Joe" 
was  being  ingloriously  pressed  back  on  the  swollen  river.  The 


37 


next  day  our  regiment,  some  350  guns,  were  pat  in  charge  of 
2,000  Federal  prisoners,  with  instructions  to  carry  them  to 
Richmond,  distant  80  or  100  miles,  through  an  open  country;  I 
forget  how  many  days  we  were  on  the  road;  we  had  no  relief- 
it  took  every  man  to  stand  guard  day  and  night — no  rest,  no 
sleep,  nothing  to  eat.  At  last  we  readied  Guinea  Station  and 
halted  48  hours,  without  food  or  shelter.  Our  prisoners  fared 
better  than  we  did — most  of  them  had  small  water-proof  cloaks 
or  tent  flies,  and  would  huddle  together  under  them  from  the 
rain.  The  second  night  after  our  arrival  at  Guinea  Station  we 
had  orders  to  put  the  officers  of  our  prisoners  on  board  cars  and 
send  them  lor  ward;  there  were  75  or  100  of  these;  we  marched 
them  to  the  depot  and  had  to  wait  an  hour;  while  standing  in 
the  rain  these  Federal  officers  sang  "Old  Hundred,"  "Praise 
God,''  etc.;  I  thought  it  the  sweetest  music  I  ever  heard.  The 
next  day  we  reached  Hanover  Junction  and  for  one  night  were 
relieved  by  some  of  Davis'  Mississippians  encamped  there,  and 
got  some  "salt  horse'7  and  "hard  tack."  Kext  morning  we  re- 
sumed our  march  to  Richmond,  which  we  reached  late  in  the 
afternoon,  having  only  lost  four  prisoners,  they  being  left  sick 
by  the  way.  These  fellows  could  have  overpowered  us  at  any 
time  on  this  march,  but  the  most  of  them  appeared  to  prefer 
imprisonment  to  fighting.  On  reaching  Richmond  the  piazzas 
and  sidewalks  were  crowded  with  citizens,  who  had  heard  of 
their  coming  and  wished  to  see  the  prisoners;  a  goodly  number 
were  young  men,  dudes,  home  guards,  who  taunted  our  captives, 
but  were  gotten  the  best  of,  being  met  with  the  reply  that  they 
had  better  be  at  the  front,  that  if  their  capture  had  depended 
on  them  they  would  never  have  been  taken,  etc. ;  very  true,  too. 
We  marched  them  down  to  Libby  Prison  and  turned  them  over 
to  the  authorities;  poor  fellows,  they  thanked  us  for  our  kind 
treatment  of  them,  and  assured  us  that  if  ever  they  captured  a 
member  of  our  regiment  they  would  treat  him  with  the  utmost 
kindness;  told  us  good-bye  and  blessed  us  as  long  as  they  could 
see  us.  A  number  of  these  prisoners  were  Germans,  members 
of  the  11th  (Seigel's)  Corps,  many  were  unable  to  speak  a  word 
of  English;  the  native  born  Yankees  would  taunt  them  by  say- 
ing, "You  fight  mit  Seigel  and  run  mit  Howard."  from  the  fact 


38 


that  this  corps  had  done  some  good  fighting  under  Seigel,  but 
when  Howard  was  in  command  they  would  run.  After  turning 
over  oar  trust,  we  drew  rations,  got  something  to  drink,  were 
inarched  out  of  the  city  and  camped  on  the  line  of  the  R.  &  F. 
B.  R.,  remained  a  few  days  and  had  a  little  rest  and  fun;  hoped 
we  would  be  allowed  to  remain  here  and  guard  the  city:  we  wrere 
heroes:  young  ladies  paid  us  great  attention  and  many  roguish 
glances  were  exchanged.  While  in  the  height  of  our  glory, 
almost  forgetting  that  there  was  such  a  thing  as  war  in  the  land, 
or  if  there  was.  we  were  having  such  a  series  of  successes  that 
peace  would  soon  be  declared,  the  fateful  order  came  to  pack 
knapsacks,  if  we  had  any,  form  line,  call  the  roll  and  board  the 
cars  again  for  that  same  old  hateful  place,  Hamilton's  Crossing. 
Soon  we  reached  this  historic  battle-field  or  the  vicinity — this 
time  not  to  remain  so  long,  but  to  once  more  take  up  the  line  of 
march  across  the  Potomac,  as  wre  shall  see  further  on. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 
Our  corps  commander,  Gen.  T.  J.  Jackson,  having  been  called 
from  the  scenes  of  carnage  "beyond  the  river,"  as  he  declared 
on  his  dying  couch,  "to  rest  under  the  shade  of  the  trees,"  Gen. 
A.  P.  Hill  succeeded  him.  Gen.  Pender,  of  North  Carolina, 
of  whom  we  had  a  perfect  horror,  as  being  such  a  strict  discipli- 
narian, was  made  commander  of  our  division  and  Gen.  Samuel 
McGowan  of  our  brigade.  It  is  an  old  adage,  but  not  a  true 
one,  that  "Self-praise  is  half  scandal,-"  however,  I  venture  the 
assertion  that  Gen.  A.  P.  Hill's  Corps  did  as  much,  if  not  more, 
genuine  hard  fighting  than  any  corps  in  the  Confederate  army. 
Some  time  in  June  we  were  called  from  camp  and  ordered  not 
to  encumber  ourselves  with  unnecessary  baggage,  and  started 
for  Kelley's  or  Ely's  Ford,  to  drive  back  some  Federal  cavalry 
(as  we  thought)  who  were  making  demonstrations  iu  that  quar- 
ter: our  men  were  full  of  enthusiasm  and  nearly  every  member 
of  Co.  O  was  in  ranks,  expecting  only  a  little  fun.  All  day  we 
marched,  passing  over  the  same  route  we  had  taken  in  the  first 
part  of  the  battle  of  Chancellorsville,  but  keeping  straight  on 
and  passing  over  the  field  where  now  lay  many  of  the  men,  half 
exposed,  who  had  yielded  up  their  lives  and  been  rudely  buried 


39 


there;  night  came  on  and  we  halted  and  rested,  but  no  signs  of 
the  enemy.  The  next  morning  strict  orders  were  given  that  no 
straggling  should  be  allowed.  Alas!  Co.  O;  many  whose  names 
I  could  call,  who  had  managed  to  keep  out  of  marching  or  fight- 
ing, were  marching  now  to  their  last  fight.  That  morning  word 
came  to  us  that  our  baggage  had  all  been  piled  up  and  burned; 
with  it  was  consumed  my  diary,  in  which  I  kept  a  strict  account 
of  each  day's  events  from  the  time  of  our  arrival  at  Light  wood- 
knot  Springs.  Our  march  was  Northward,  and  Gen.  Pender, 
of  whom  we  had  entertained  such  fears,  proved  quite  humane 
and  treated  us  kindly,  halting  and  resting  in  the  middle  of  the 
day,  never  marching  more  than  12  or  13  miles  a  day.  We 
passed  through  many  towns  and  villages  in  Virginia  where  first 
one  and  then  the  other  army  had  held  sway,  but  everywhere 
could  be  witnessed  genuine  and  true  devotion  to  the  Southern 
cause;  the  ladies  cheered  us  and  expressed  the  hope  that  the 
enemy  would  never  more  be  allowed  to  pollute  their  homes. 
We  now  had  a  fine  army  in  all  branches;  our  bands  enlivened 
the  march  with  strains  of  martial  music  ;  when  a  halt  was  made, 
foraging  parties  would  sally  forth,  not  to  steal,  but  to  beg,  and 
they  always  brought  in  something  nice.  At  last  we  reach  the 
mighty  Potomac,  the  river  we  had  always  considered  the  great 
dividing  line  between  the  contending  armies,  and  have  to  wade 
it;  which  we  do  to  music  from  the  band  of  the  14th  S.  C.  V.  We 
felt  full  of  hope  that  now,  being  in  such  strong  force  in  Mary- 
land, her  sons  would  rally  by  thousands  to  our  standard — but 
they  didn't  rally  worth  much.  Some  towns  through  which  we 
passed  appeared  to  be  intensely  Southern,  while  in  others,  if  a 
Confederate  flag  was  seen,  some  lady  waved  a  tiny  one  away 
back  from  a  window,  evidently  afraid  for  her  neighbors  to  see 
it,  lest  she  should  be  reported,  arrested  and  thrown  into  prison, 
for  being  in  sympathy  with  the  Southern  cause.  Poor  Mary- 
land! "she  breathed,  she  burned,"  but  never  did  come.  On  we 
marched  the  day  after,  never  seeing  the  enemy,  but  constantly 
expecting  him;  most  of  the  fighting  done  on  this  march  was  by 
cavalry,  for  a  wonder — precious  little  had  they  done  up  to  this 
time.  When  a  halt  was  called,  it  was  amusing  to  see  the  banks 
of  branches  or  streams,  if  either  were  near,  lined  with  urebs," 


40 


with  their  shirts  off.  not  solely  for  bathing,  but  busily  engaged 
in  trying  to  rid  themselves  of  the  loathsome  body  guard.  Once 
we  marched  until  after  nightfall,  halted  in  a  field  of  clover  and 
had  neither  lights  nor  fire;  myself  and  three  others  spread  our 
oil  cloths,  then  a  blanket  or  two,  lay  down,  covered  with  blan- 
kets and  an  oil  cloth,  used  our  kuapsacks  as  pillows  and  slept 
soundly,  the  rain  actually  washing  out  little  drains  around  our 
pallet.  After  awhile  we  crossed  a  stream  on  a  bridge;  a  crowd 
of  ladies  had  assembled  to  see  the  Southern  army  in  full  force 
put  their  feet  on  the  soil  of  Pennsylvania;  we  crossed  the  line 
without  molestation  and  continued  our  march;  the  highways 
were  lined  with  trees  swaying  with  large  ripe  cherries,  but  were 
not  allowed  to  halt;  passed  the  charred  remains  of  Thad.  Ste- 
vens' celebrated  iron  works,  but,  with  the  exception  of  this 
burning,  private  property  was  not  molested,  Gen.  Lee  having 
issued  strict  orders  against  molesting  anything  unless  necessary 
to  supply  the  demands  of  the  army,  such  as  horses,  cattle,  &c. 


CHAPTEB  XIX. 
Private  property  was  protected,  but  if  we  had  known  what 
was  in  store  for  our  homes  and  families  by  Sherman  and  his 
vandals,  we  would  have  made  a  clean  sweep  and  left  them 
homeless;  we  were  passing  through  a  rich  belt,  almost  one  con- 
tinuous town,  the  farm  houses  were  so  close  to  each  other — most 
of  the  people  wTere  Dutch,  with  some  Shakers;  it  was  amusing 
to  hear  them  tell  how  their  horses  were  taken  by  our  army — one 
old  fellow  said  he  covered  a  horse  up  "mit  a  hay-sthack,  but  it 
was  no  use,  de  tam  rebels  find  him  anyhow."  It  was  a  great 
place  for  apple  butter,  but  if  we  got  any  we  had  to  "press"  it; 
they  did  not  at  first  know  what  was  meant  when  told  we  would 
press  any  tiling,  but  soon  learned  that  it  meant  to  "make  um 
coom  anyway."  After  a  time  we  halt  at  a  place  called  Cash- 
town,  and  learn  that  the  enemy  are  not  far  off*.  The  morning 
of  July  1,  1863,  we  resume  the  march;  soon  hear  artillery  firing 
two  or  three  miles  in  fronts  press  on,  meeting  prisoners,  civil- 
ians. &c.,  at  last  come  to  a  large  brick  dwelling  on  an  elevation 
to  our  left,  called  Salem;  the  cannon  were  fired  more  rapidly, 
the  musketry — pop,  pop,  pop — resembled  fire  in  a  cane-brake. 


We  are  ordered  to  form  in  line  of  battle  on  the  right  of  the  road 
and  advance  at  double  quick  over  fences,  gardens,  hedges,  &c, 
until  we  get  in  reach  of  their  shells;  here  we  rest  and  eat,  the 
fight  raging  in  our  front,  shells  from  the  enemy's  guns  bursting 
over  us;  now  is  heard  the  "rebel  yell"  on  the  left;  soon  we  are 
ordered  forward,  advance  half  a  mile  and  are  halted  on  the  brow 
of  a  hill  in  a  skirt  of  undergrowth,  and  witness  the  slaughter  of 
Davis1  Mississippi  Brigade,  who.  in  an  open  held  two  or  three 
hundred  yards  in  front  of  us,  instead  of  charging  and  sweeping 
the  enemy,  stand  and  are  cut  down  like  grain  before  the  sickle. 
While  halted  here,  75  or  100  men  came  charging  up  just  to  our 
Left,  dismounted  and  picked  off  the  enemy  with  long  range  gnus 
over  the  heads  of  the  Mississippians,  who  are  advancing  up  an 
inclined  plain  towards  the  enemy.  Just  after  crossing  a  branch 
about  40  yards  from  where  we  halted,  Capt.  John  A.  Hinnant. 
of  Co.  C,  received  a  grape  shot  through  his  left  leg,  reeled  and 
fell;  we  continued  to  advance  some  200  yards,  when  they  opened 
on  us  with  grape  and  canister  to  our  left,  while  the  infantry 
poured  leaden  hail  in  front;  I  received  a  grape  shot  in  my  l  ight 
leg  below  the  knee,  which  shattered  the  bone  into  splinters,  the 
shoe  on  that  foot  flying  off  some  distance;  within  a  radius  of  a 
yard  and  a  half  two  members  of  my  company  also  fell — John  A. 
Eobertson  and  Jim  Williamson;  I  could  not  move,  but  plainly 
saw  what  was  going  on;  our  brigade  ^  as  wavering  and  about 
to  fall  back,  when  Col.  Perrin,  in  command,  still  on  horseback, 
with  drawn  sword,  dashed  to  the  front,  telling  the  men  to  follow 
him;  this  action  gave  new  life  to  the  brigade,  who  charged  and 
dislodged  the  enemy  from  behind  a  stone  wall.  Here  I  lay, 
bullets  falling  around  like  hail,  still  no  infirmary  or  ambulance 
corps  to  carry  me  off  for  a  length  of  time;  finally  two  of  them 
ventured  up,  danger  over,  as  they  thought,  but  had  no  stretcher 
to  carry  me;  the  July  sun  was  broiling  hot  and  I  famishing  for 
water;  I  directed  the  men  to  get  two  poles,  cut  my  sword  belt 
into  strings,  tie  my  blanket  to  the  poles,  lift  me  in  it  and  carry 
me  to  the  rear;  the  blanket  sagged  so  much  that  it  came  near 
smothering  me.  On  reaching  the  branch  we  had  so  recently 
crossed  in  all  the  pride  of  manhood,  I  begged  the  men  to  lay 
me  down  in  the  water  to  cool,  and  for  a  time  my  life's  blood 


L2 


caused  the  water  to  run  red — I  knew  that  if  I  lived  I  was  ruined 
forever.  My  friends  again  placed  me  in  the  blanket  and  went 
in  search  of  our  hospital:  half  a  mile  back  we  came  to  a  whole 
division  of  our  troops,  stacked  arms,  cooking  and  eating,  as  if 
nothing  was  going  on,  while  our  poor  boys  were  catching  death 
at  every  step.  I  found  a  surgeon,  who  told  me  our  hospital  was 
about  three  miles  back,  not  an  ambulance  insight;  he  finally 
sent  me  in  a  little  wagon  to  wiiere  our  surgeons  were. 


CHAPTER  XX. 
My  driver  in  the  wagon  was  a  full-fledged  Irishman,  from  a 
Mississippi  regi  ment ;  he  appeared  very  sorry  for  me,  and  when 
I  groaned  would  say,  "Poor  boy,  I  hope  we'll  soon  reach  your 
hospital."  We  found  it  at  last,  I  was  lifted  out  and  put  on  a 
pile  of  si  raw.  I  knew  my  leg  would  have  to  be  amputated,  but 
did  not  wish  it  done  by  the  surgeon  of  our  regiment,  Dr.  Bailey. 
I  wanted  Dr.  Evins,  the  brigade  surgeon7  to  perform  the  ope- 
ration, and,  with  tears  streaming  down  my  cheeks,  begged  him 
to  do  it,  which  he  promised  he  would;  I  was  given  something 
and  laid  out  until  next  afternoon — was  too  near  dead  to  know 
how  the  night  passed.  The  next  day  I  was  lifted  upon  a  table, 
which  roused  me  a  little,  chloroform  was  placed  to  my  nostrils 
and  I  felt  as  if  I  rose  up  and  flew  awTay.  When  I  next  remem- 
bered anything,  I  was  on  a  pile  of  straw  on  my  back  in  a  tent, 
my  l  ight  leg  gone;  some  parties  wrere  whispering  that  I  was 
gone,  no  chance  for  me;  I  felt  that  my  time  had  come  and  was 
resigned  to  my  fate,  but  thought  it  hard.  On  the  3d  of  July  1 
heard  the  awful  cannonading  between  our  own  and  the  enemy's 
forces.  On  the  morning  of  the  4th,  Edgar  Powrell,  of  the  1st  8. 
C.  V.,  brought  me  some  nourishment,  the  first  I  had  taken,  and 
I  began  to  get  a  little  strength.  Poor  Edgar,  after  safely  pass- 
ing through  all  these  scenes,  recently  took  his  own  life;  he  was 
my  friend,  I  shall  ever  revere  his  memory.  I  now  learned  that 
our  army  was  in  full  retreat,  and  that  wewere  left  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  five  or  six  well  men  of  our  regiment,  left  to  nurse  and 
dress  our  wounds,  until  the  enemy  should  take  charge  of  us. 
On  the  5th  or  6th,  a  body  of  awkward  Yankee  cavalry,  with 
drawn  sabres,  came  charging  and  captured  us  in  the  name  of  the 


43 


United  States.  When  I  got  a  little  better,  I  learned  that  ray 
leg  bad  been  amputated  by  the  said  Bailey  while  so  drunk  that 
he  had  to  lean  against  the  table  to  keep  from  falling:  there  are 
many  living  witnesses  to  testify  to  this  tact:  I  suppose  he  deemed 
me  a  good  subject  to  experiment  on — amputated  my  limb  twice 
and  left  me  such  an  imperfect  stump  that  I  could  never  wear  an 
artificial  limb,  but  will  go  on  crutches  the  balance  of  my  life, 
having  already  been  on  them  25  years.  We  lay  nearly  naked 
and  starved  for  some  time  before  the  enemy  gave  us  any  atten- 
tion except  to  capture  us;  could  hear  the  gnus  of  our  men,  as 
they  sullenly  retreated  to  the  Potomac,  and  our  hearts  felt  sad 
to  thiuk  of  them:  the  days  were  very  hot  and  the  nights  cool. 
Our  covering  consisted  of  blankets  picked  up  on  the  battle- 
field, and  so.  fall  of  lice  that  we  could  lie  on  our  backs  and  see 
them  almost  move  the  covering:  we  became  polluted — hair, 
beard,  rags.  I  mention  these  things  in  order  that  those  who 
were  not  there  and  the  children  who  have  grown  up  since  may 
kuow  what  war  is.  and  learn  to  cultivate  peace.  In  the  same 
tent  with  me  was  Capt.  J.  A.  Hinnant  and  others  of  my  com- 
pany. D.  L.  Carter,  Wylie  Wyrick  and  R.  K.  Moses — the  last 
two  died  of  their  wounds:  Jim  Harvey  and  Sam.  Proctor,  of 
Co.  F:  Billy  Crosby,  of  Co.  D  (who  died  there),  and  others:  we 
were  close  together,  but  I  cant't  remember  all.  The  nurses  I 
can  think  of  who  were  left  with  us  are  Dolph  Dunlap,  of  our 
company,  and  Tom  Harris,  of  Co.  F — they  had  a  hard  time,  too. 
Poor  wounded  soldiers,  there  they  lay:  frequently  some  one 
would  start  to  sing,  when  all  who  were  able  joined  in,  and  the 
little  camp  resounded  with  strains  of  sacred  music,  praise  to  the 
great  Creator:  the  words  of  a  popular  piece  they  sang  was: 
"Joyfully,  joyfully  onward,  we're  bound  for  the  land  of  bright 
spirits  above, "  etc.  On  the  morning  of  the  17th,  the  Yankees 
began  to  move  us  away:  I  was  placed  in  an  ambulance  and 
driven  carefully  over  a  rough  turnpike  to  Gettysburg — if  I  suf- 
fered, it  was  not  the  fault  of  my  driver,  for  he  used  the  utmost 
care  to  keep  me  from  jolting:  good,  kind-hearted  soul,  I  hope 
the  Lord  blessed  him  for  it.  Arriving  at  Gettysburg,  we  were 
placed  in  box  cars,  and  while  the  train  was  standing,  sweet 
women,  ladies  from  Baltimore.  Sisters  of  Charity,  had  refresh- 


44 


merits  of  all  kinds,  distributing  to  us  poor  sufferers;  buckets  of 
milk  punch  were  passed  along  the  train,  and  every  poor  reb 
allowed  to  help  himself,  if  able — if  not,  kind  hands  lifted  him 
up  and  held  it  to  his  dying  lips. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 
We  remained  in  the  cars  at  Gettysburg  some  time;  our  crowd 
was  broken  and  separated  here,  some  going  to  Fort  LaFayette, 
some  to  Fort  Delaware,  some  to  Camp  Chase,  some  to  Elmira, 
&c.  After  a  time  our  old  freight  train  starts.  Very  little  of 
incident  occurred  that  night,  except  that  one  of  our  guards, 
who  bore  the  name  of  Jeff.  Davis  and  appeared  to  be  quite 
proud  of  it,  was  very  kind  to  us.  At  Harrisburg,  he  got  out 
of  the  cars  and  brought  back  some  whiskey,  which  he  treated 
out  as  long  as  it  lasted.  At  every  station  we  passed  hundreds 
of  people  were  present  to  see  the  rebel  prisoners.  At  Easton 
we  stopped  a  good  while;  plenty  of  ladies  were  here  to  see  us, 
and  here  two  of  them  asked  my  name  and  gave  me  theirs — 
they  were  Misses  Sallie  Brontzman  and  Lucinda  Hilburn. 
They  said  they  were  not  expecting  us  to  look  like  other  peo- 
ple at  all.  Later  on,  I  corresponded  with  these  ladies.  They 
would  not  send  me  any  money,  however,  as  they  had  conscien- 
tious scruples  about  it.  I  have,  or  did  have,  Miss  Hilburn' s 
photograph;  a  fine  looking  lady  she  was,  too.  I  cannot  now 
remember  how  long  we  were  in  getting  from  Gettysburg  to 
Jersey  City.  At  all  events,  on  reaching  that  city,  we  were 
transferred  to  a  steamboat  and  made  as  comfortable  as  we  could 
be  under  the  circumstances.  The  monster  Great  Eastern  was 
pointed  out  to  us  here.  As  soon  as  all  the  prisoners  had  been 
transferred  to  the  steamer,  she  steamed  up  and  carried  us  to 
David's  Island,  situated  in  Long  Island  Sourid,  about  twenty - 
five  miles  from  Xew  York  city.  Here  we  were  tenderly  carried 
ashore  and  placed  in  a  pavilion,  each  man  having  a  separate 
bed,  on  which  were  new  and  soft  mattresses,  clean  sheets  and 
pillow  cases.  After  undergoing  a  thorough  bath,  shaving  and 
being  furnished  with  clean  clothing,  our  wounds  were  dressed, 
cards  placed  at  the  head  of  each  bed,  giving  name,  rank  and 
State  of  each  occupant.    They  tried  to  make  us  just  as  comfort- 


45 


able  as  possible.  The  surgeon  of  my  pavilion  was  one  Dr. 
Edwards,  a  red-headed,  full -blooded  Yankee;  but  he  had  a 
noble,  kind  heart.  The  surgeon  in  charge  of, the  entire  hos- 
pital was  Dr.  Simmons,  a  native  of  South  Carolina,  but  surgeon 
in  the  regular  army  when  the  war  broke  out.  His  every  action 
showed  that  his  heart  was  with  us.  In  fact,  he  said  he  could 
and  would  do  us  more  good  there  than  if  he  had  been  in  the 
Confederate  army.  We  had  every  attention  and  privilege 
that  we  could  expect;  attentive  nurses  day  and  night-  In  the 
same  pavilion  with  me,  I  remember  J.  A.  Hiunant.  Captain 
of  our  company;  Capt.  A.  F.  Butler,  of  Savannah:  Capt. 
Malone  and  Lieut.  Freeman,  of  Georgia;  Jim  Tiddy,  of  Char- 
lotte; Henry  Wilkinson,  of  Norfolk;  Adjutant  Crocker,  of 
Portsmouth:  Lieut.  Goode,  of  Virginia;  Lieut.  Cathey,  of  Xorth 
Carolina.  Lieut.  Fordham  for  some  time  had  a  servant  with 
him  in  the  army,  by  the  name  of  West,  and  he  used  to  beat 
him  so  frequently  with  a  stick,  that  at  last  West  ran  off  and 
left  him.  Wilkinson  was  shot  in  the  head,  and  we  all  thought 
it  strange  to  see  him  walking  on  crutches.  Poor  Goode  had  a 
ball  in  his  knee  and  seemed  to  suffer  a  great  deal.  He  was 
placed  on  a  water  bed,  the  first  and  only  one  I  ever  saw.  The 
doctors  at  last  decided  to  amputate  his  leg,  aud  he  only  lived  a 
few  days  afterward:  so  eager  were  the  Yankees  for  Confederate 
trophies,  that  they  actually  made  finger  rings  of  the  bones  of  poor 
Goode's  amputated  leg.  Those  whose  wounds  were  slight  or 
only  flesh  wounds,  were  soon  able  to  go  where  they  pleased  over 
the  island.  We  were  furnished  whiskey  every  day:  my  ration 
was  eight  ounces.  I  scarcely  ever  drank  half  of  it,  conse- 
quentlj-  my  nurse  got  a  good  drink  every  morning,  and  appre- 
ciated it  by  showing  me  marked  kindness.  Before  I  was  able 
to  walk  on  crutches,  he  pulled  me  all  over  the  island  in  a  nice 
little  invalid's  wagon.  His  name  was  Fred  Bond.  We  wrote 
and  received  letters  from  home  every  day,  and  the  Southern 
ladies  living  there  visited  us  and  rendered  every  comfort  in 
their  power.  Here  I  received  my  first  present  of  greenbacks, 
(810)  which  was  given  to  me  by  Mrs.  Hunter,  formerly  Miss 
Middleton,  of  South  Carolina.  Sweet  lady,  I  wonder  if  she 
is  alive  and  remembers  it.    She  furnished  me  with  feather  pil- 


46 


lows,  too.  I  cannot  omit  to  mention  the  names  of  some  others 
who  did  all  the}-  could  to  make  ns  comfortable.  There  was 
Miss  Annie  Morris  and  sister,  I  think  they  were  from  South 
Carolina;  Miss  Welsnran,  of  Charleston,  Miss  Winston,  Mrs. 
Schmidt,  Mrs.  Sullivan,  (the  prettiest  lady  I  ever  saw,)  Mrs. 
Land,  Mrs.  Dodge,  Misses  Julia  and  Virginia  Gran  berry  and  a 
Mr.  Tobias,  of  Charleston,  assisted  us  a  great  deal.  I  hope 
these  parties  are  alive  and  enjoying  all  the  comforts  they  so 
richly  deserve. 


CHAPTEE  XXII. 
We  had  many  Southern  sympathisers  at  the  North;  Mrs.  Jas. 
Gordon  Bennett  visited  us  at  David's  Island  and  furnished  us 
with  many  comforts.  The  ladies  established  private  kitchens 
on  the  island  and  hired  cooks  at  their  own  expense;  every  reb 
who  was  able  could  go  there  and  get  his  meals,  and  they  would 
send  the  eating  to  those  unable  to  go  for  it,  consequently 
we  were  little  expense  to  the  Yankee  Government.  I  mention 
these  things  in  order  that  those  who  did  not  witness  may  know 
what  strong  sympathy  Ave  had  at  the  Xorth;  they  furnished  us 
nice  suits  of  clothes,  and  at  last,  when  the  authorities  became 
jealous,  and  would  not  allow  us  citizen's  clothes,  some  of  these 
ladies  smuggled  them  over,  wearing  them  on  their  persons. 
They  had  Hinnant's  and  my  measure  taken  for  artificial  legs, 
costing  $150  each — I  will  state  how  I  received  mine  in  a  future 
chapter.  ,  One  Sunday  afternoon  two  gentlemen  came  into  our 
pavilions,  one  of  whom  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  my  couch,  gave 
me  his  name  (which  I  wish  I  could  remember-),  informed  me 
he  was  from  Baltimore,  and  that  his  sympathies  were  with  us 
arrd  his  money  too,  as  far  as  he  could  make  it  do  any  good.  On 
leaving,  he  inquired  if  I  would  like  to  see  the  day's  paper, 
pulling  one  from  his  pocket;  I  thanked  him;  he  cautioned  me 
to  be  careful  in  opening  it,  not  to  let  the  Yankee  nurses  see  me 
do  it,  bid  me  good-bye  and  left,  As  soon  as  I  had  an  opportu- 
nity I  operred  it  arrd  was  delighted  to  find  folded  therein  two 
$20  greenbacks — I  tell  you,  I  felt  rich  then.  These  are  the 
kind  of  friends  we  had  at  the  Xorth  and  numbers  of  them,  too, 
if  they  had  any  chance  of  displaying  it;  they  furnished  us  with 


47 


money  as  long  as  we  remained  at  David's  [aland  and  sent  it  to 
us  after  we  left  there.  If  the  eye  of  any  of  those  whose  names 
I  have  mentioned  should  chance  to  tall  upon  these  lines,  I  would 
be  glad  to  hear  from  them.  After  remaining  here  thYec  mont  Is 
or  more,  we  heard  the  unwelcome  news  that  we  were  to  be  moved 
to  some  other  prison.  The  evening  we  started,  Dr.  Edwards 
treated  every  man  of  his  charge  to  as  much  whiskey  as  he  would 
drink;  our  parting  with  him  and  Dr.  Simmons  was  indeed  sad. 
We  were  carried  to  Bedloe's  Island,  in  full  vi"\v  of  Xew  York 
and  its  shipping;  here  we  fared  tolerably  well,  the  troops  were 
under  command  of  Col.  Merchant,  who  had  a  brother  a  Colonel 
in  the  Confederate  army.  Here  poor  C.ithey  fell  and  broke  his 
leg  over  and  it  had  to  be  amputated.  We  were  allowed  to  go 
to  church,  in  the  chapel,  the  only  ladies  attending  being  Col. 
Merchant's  daughters;  on  one  occasion  the  choir  sang  "Blow  ye 
the  trumpet,  blow/'  and  I  never  heard  such  music  before  from 
those  words.  We  remained  here  about  three  weeks,  when  23 
of  us,  all  commissioned  officers,  were  put  on  a  tug  and  carried 
across  to  Jersey  City;  in  passing  a  French  man-of-war  the  crew 
waved  their  hands  and  cheered.  Eeaching  Jersey  City,  we  were 
put  on  the  cars  and  started  for  Johnson's  Island,  in  Lake  Erie. 
We  23  cripples  had  a  guard  of  one  commissioned  and  1-4  non- 
commissioned officers  and  privates  of  the  8th  IT.  S.  regulars — 
nearly  a  guard  for  each  man.  Our  route  lay  through  Xorth- 
western  Xew  York,  some  of  the  most  delightful  scenery  I  ever 
saw;  through  and  under  the  mountains  in  tunnels  as  dark  as 
midnight,  our  train  sped  on  its  way  without  any  event  of  inter- 
est until  we  arrived  at  Dunkirk,  where  our  train  was  delayed 
several  hours;  some  musicians  serenaded  us  with  Dixie,  The 
Bonnie  Blue  Flag  and  other  Southern  war  songs.  A  gentleman 
came  up  and  talked  with  us;  said  his  name  was  Saunders  and 
his  home  in  Prairie  du  Chien,  Wisconsin;  was  with  us  heart 
and  soul;  sent  olf  and  bought  10  or  12  pounds  of  cheese,  about 
the  same  of  crackers,  a  three  gallon  demijohn  of  whiskey,  and 
made  us  a  present  of  it.  When  our  train  moved  off,  our  crowd 
and  guard,  with  the  exception  of  the  Lieutenant  in  charge,  were 
quite  lively;  one  of  the  guard  got  so  drunk  that  he  fell  off  the 
platform  and  was  killed.    I  can't  remember  the  Lieutenant's 


4S 


Dame — he  said  he  was  a  native  of  Charleston,  S.  C.  At  last  we 
reach  Sandusky.  Ohio,  are  transferred  to  a  steamer,  and  after 
nightfall  reach  Johnson's  Island,  Lake  Erie.  As  we  march  up 
and  give  our  names,  we  are  told  to  give  up  our  money,  &c. ;  for 
the  first  time  since  our  capture  begin  to  realize  what  is  to  be 
prison  life;  block  9,  with  bunk  beds,  is  assigned  us  as  quarters. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 
The  Johnson's  Island  prison  was  enclosed  by  a  high  fence  or 
wall,  every  few  yards  on  which  was  stationed  a  blue  coat,  with 
a  loaded  gun;  there  were  19  or  20  houses,  two  stories  high,  ca- 
pable of  holding  125  or  150  men;  they  called  them  blocks. 
We  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  enjoy  ourselves,  if  we  could;  got 
enough  coarse  grub — bacon,  hard  beans,  potatoes,  codfish,  etc. 
There  were  here  about  2,500  Confederate  officers,  from  Major- 
General  to  Lieutenant — among  them  some  of  the  finest  looking 
men  in  America,  of  the  highest  talent  and  cultured  intellect — 
there  were  almost  all  nationalities,  except  the  negro.  Jeff. 
.Thompson,  Beale,  Trimble,  Jones  and  other  Generals  were  here. 
On  the  streets  were  fruit  stands,  restaurants,  etc.,  kept  by  Con- 
federate officers;  men  went  about  peddling  apples,  chestnuts, 
grapes,  etc. :  along  the  front  of  the  blocks  on  each  side  were 
bulletin  boards,  where  could  be  seen  every  few  hours  despatches 
received  by  the  underground  route.  The  weather  w  as  intensely 
cold,  the  wind  coming  right  off  Lake  Erie,  which  sometimes 
was  frozen  over  so  the  boats  could  not  run.  The  men  employed 
themselves  making  gutta  percha  rings  with  gold  sets,  chains, 
bone  rings,  violins,  etc.  In  one  of  the  blocks  was  a  theatre,  the 
scenery  in  which  was  gotten  up  and  the  plays  written  by  rebs; 
among  the  plays  was  "The  Battle  of  Gettysburg,"  written  by 
A.  J.  Peeler,  of  Florida,  and  a  good  play  it  was,  too — if  Adjt. 
Peeler  is  living  and  has  the  manuscript,  he  ought  to  furnish  it 
for  the  stage  now,  some  portions  of  it  would  bring  tears  to  the 
eyes  of  the  most  hardened  sinner,  while  in  others  a  saint  could 
not  refrain  from  laughter.  When  these  plays  were  to  come 
off,  the  most  flaming,  nicely  gotten  up  programmes  would  be 
distributed  over  the  prison;  every  fellow  who  could  raise  enough 
to  buy  a  ticket  would  attend,  a  large  number  of  the  audience 


49 


being  officers  and  soldiers  of  the  garrison,  who  paid  for  their 
tickets  aud  enjoyed  it  as  much  and  more  than  we  did.  Masons 
held  regular  meetings,  the  presiding  officer  being  <  5oL  Lewis,  of 
Arkansas  or  Missouri.  There  was  preaching  in  some  of  the 
blocks  every  night;  in  my  block  was  a  pious  old  gentleman,  an 
unlearned  minister,  named  Mains*:  one  night  he  was  preaching 
in  one  part  of  the  building,  in  another  part  a  crowd  .were  fid- 
dling and  having  a  stag  dance,  in  another  were  three  or  four 
squads  playing  cards,  while  still  others  were  reading  novels  or 
joking  and  laughing.  In  discussing  our  Saviour's  conduct 
while  on  earth,  the  old  gentleman  said:  "Did  He  go  off  yander 
and  fiddle  and  dance?  did  He  set  off  yander  and  play  cards?  or 
did  He  set  off  yander  and  read  novels?"  But  his  words  had 
small  effect  on  those  for  whom  he  preached  them:  many  of  the 
prisoners  lived  pious,  exemplary  lives  and  took  a  deep  interest 
in  the  religious  meetings.  There  was  an  Indian  here.  Captain 
of  Co.  B,  2d  Choctaw  Confederate  Cavalry,  named  Elapishtabbe 
Simeon  Hamilton:  he  made  a  bow  and  arrows,  with  which  he 
was  very  expert;  the  island  seemed  alive  with  large  wharf  rats 
and  about  sunset  every  evening  he  would  kill  a  great  many, 
and  could  always  find  a  ready  sale  for  them  to  the  prisoners;  I 
never  could  take  any  in  mine;  poor  Elapishtabbe.  he  was  taken 
with  something  like  erysipelas  and  died.  The  commandant  of 
the  garrison  was  Col.  Pearson:  when  we  first  got  to  Johnson's 
Island  he  was  pretty  clever,  but  the  Major  was  the  biggest  liar 
unhung.  There  were  a  great  many  of  Gen.  John  H.  Morgan's 
men  here — fine,  large,  handsome  Kentuckians:  a  number  from 
the  Western  army,  and  a  good  sprinkling  of  South  Carolinians, 
among  the  latter  I  remember  Samuel  Dibble,  W.  C.  Coker.  R. 
G.  Howard,  I.  Eavenel  Macbeth,  J.  B.  Campbell.  John  Taylor, 
P.  H.  B.  Shuler,  Mike  Sharp,  J.  A.  Hinnant.  Wm.  Clyburn,  T. 
J.  H.  H.  B.  Douglass  and  Capt.  Bowen,  of  Pickens — the  latter 
and  Lieut.  AVebb,  of  Kentucky,  one  of  Morgan's  men,  had  a 
fisticuff  set-to  one  day,  in  which  Bowen  would  have  come  out 
best,  but  they  were  separated  too  soon.  Some  of  the  prisoners 
were  constantly  trying  to  escape;  it  was  only  eighteen  miles  to 
the  Canada  line,  and  they  thought  once  outside,  they  could 
make  their  way  there  on  the  frozen  lake:  some  were  tunneling 


50 


all  the  time,  and  Capt.  Cole,  of  Missouri,  got  his  tunnel  under 
the  wall  and  his  head  and  part  of  his  body  out  one  night,  when 
he  was  discovered,  and  the  prisoners  got  up  a  song  about  "Capt. 
Cole  got  hung  in  the  hole."  Others  managed  to  get  hold  of 
Federal  uniforms,  and  in  the  evening,  about  the  time  the  Yan- 
kees usually  came  in  to  get  the  saws  and  axes  we  had  been  using 
in  the  prison  all  day,  would  gather  a  saw  or  axe  and  skip  out 
of  the  gate  without  detection;  they  were  almost  invariably  cap- 
tured outside,  though,  as  they  knew  not  where  to  deposit  the 
tools,  and  were  thus  detected.  After  we  had  been  here  some 
time,  they  became  alarmed  that  our  friends  were  coming  over 
from  Canada  to  liberate  us,  and  Gen.  Terry,  with  his  brigade 
of  5,000  men,  were  sent  as  a  garrison.  Some  nights  it  was  so 
cold  we  could  not  sleep,  and  were  not  allowed  to  have  a  light, 
even  the  little  reflection  from  the  fire  in  the  stove  after  9  P.  M. 
would  be  sure  to  draw  a  Yankee  bullet  without  any  warning. 


CHAPTEE  XXIV. 
One  night  the  weather  was  so  very  cold  that  some  of  us  could 
not  sleep.  Myself,  Lieut.  Tiddy,  of  Xorth  Carolina,  Capt. 
Stubbs,  of  Mississippi,  Lieut.  Cox,  of  Tennessee,  and  others 
concluded  to  sit  up  all  night;  we  formed  what  we  called  the 
''Owl  Club/'  and  concluded  that  as  we  could  not  sleep,  we 
would  keep  our  more  fortunate  room-mates  awake,  too.  AVe 
kept  a  low  fire  burning  in  the  stove,  in  proportion  to  the  wood 
we  happened  to  have.  About  3  o'clock,  the  reflection  from  the 
fire  shone  on  the  sash — we  heard  the  report  of  a  gun,  a  bullet 
came  crashing  through  the  sash,  wmistled  over  our  heads  and 
buried  itself  in  the  wall,  just  above  the  bunks  of  our  sleeping 
friends.  This  broke  up  the  Owl  Club  for  the  night,  much  to 
the  satisfaction  of  Capt.  Hinnant,  of  my  regiment,  and  Capt. 
Haynes,  of  Lincolnton,  X.  C.  Occasionally,  a  reb  would  take 
the  oath  of  allegiance  and  get  out.  One  day,  a  fellow  by  the 
name  of  Dougherty  wrote  an  application  to  send  out  to  Gen. 
Terry,  stating  that  he  wished  to  take  the  oath.  He  accident- 
ally dropped  the  letter  and  some  of  his  companions  found  it. 
The  consequence  was,  that  poor  Dougherty  met  with  some 
rough  treatment.    The  ground  was  covered  with  snow,  and  his 


51 


former  friends  and  associates  tried  to  stoue  him  to  death  will) 
snow-balls — the)7  kicked,  knocked  and  abused  him,  threaten- 
ing to  hang  him.  A  Yankee  lieutenant  ran  in  and  tried  to  dis- 
perse the  crowd,  but  that  only  seemed  to  exasperate  the  men, 
and  he,  too,  was  heartily  pelted  with  snow-balls.  At  last  he 
appealed  to  a  reb,  Capt.  Fellows,  whom  he  knew,  to  try  and 
get  the  rest  to  let  Dougherty  alone.  As  soon  as  Capt.  Fellows 
spoke,  quiet  was  restored,  until  he  made  the  announcement 

that  the  Yankee  lieutenant  had  promised  to  take  the  d  d 

rascal  from  our  midst.  The  lieutenant  started  out  with' him, 
but  the  temptation  was  so  great  that  the  snow-balls  soon  began 
to  l  ain  on  Dougherty  and  the  lieutenant.  The  gates  M  ere 
opened,  and  a  squad  of  Yankee  infantry  rushed  in,  strung  out 
and  shouted  to  our  men  to  disperse  and  get  back  or  they  would 

fire.    They  were  met  with  the  response,  "Fire  and  be  d  d, 

you  cowardly  Yankee  s!"    As  there  were  600  or  700  rebs  on 

the  lake  shore,  getting  water  at  the  time,  the  Yankees  concluded 
it  might  not  be  healthy  to  fire,  and  did  not  do  so;  the  lieutenant 
succeeded  in  getting  Dougherty  out  and  closing  the  gate.  If 
Dougherty  is  alive  now,  I  don't  suppose  he  stands  very  high  in 
the  estimation  of  either  side.  There  were  several  battles  fought 
between  the  prisoners,  in  which  one  portion  of  them  was  com- 
manded by  a  rebel  General,  purporting  to  be  Yankees,  and  the 
others  by  another  rebel  General,  representing  the  Confederates. 
Old  Johnson,  the  owner  of  the  island,  kept  a  sutlery,  or  rather, 
had  it  kept,  within  the  prison  walls.  At  this  sutlery,  any  of 
us  who  had  any  money  on  hand,  or  on  deposit  outside,  could 
buy  anything  they  might  have  to  sell.  Johnson  conceived  a 
new  idea,  however,  of  making  money  at  our  expense.  He  had 
a  photographer  to  make  a  number  of  views  of  the  prison  enclo- 
sure and  buildings  on  a  large  scale;  thinking  every  man  of  us 
would  want  one  of  them  to  bring  home  to  our  friends.  We  did 
not  like  the  place  well  enough  to  be  crazy  for  his  pictures,  con- 
sequently, very  few  were  bought.  Failing  to  sell  them  as  fast 
as  he  expected  to  do,  he  hit  upon  a  plan  of  trying  to  force  us  to 
buy.  He  would  not  allow  his  clerk  to  sell  us  anything  until 
we  bought  one  of  his  pictures  first,  the  price  of  which  was  83. 
While  this  embargo  lasted,  he  sold  very  little,  and  it  was  rather 


52 


an  unpleasant  thing  for  him  to  be  seen  by  any  of  us,  as  he  was 
greeted  with  all  sorts  of  vile  epithets.  He  raised  such  a  ruin- 
pus  that  the  commandant  made  old  Johnson  countermand  his 
older,  and  we  could  again  buy  as  before.  If  the  old  whelp  is 
st  ill  alive,  I  expect  he  would  be  glad  to  sell  his  photographs  for 
much  less  than  |3.  The  Western  men  were  constantly  receiv- 
ing boxes  from  home,  and  many  of  the  rest  of  us  were  fre- 
quently the  recipients  of  nice  boxes  from  our  sympathising 
friends  in  Xew  York,  Baltimore  and  other  places.  Every 
morning  an  eager  crowd  would  gather  at  the  point  where  the 
names  of  those  were  called  out,  who  had  anything  to  be  de- 
livered to  them,  and  here  they  had  a  "dead  line,"  which,  if 
one  of  us  accidentally  or  unthoughtfnlly  crossed,  we  were  shot 
dead.  Not  for  beyond  this  ''dead  line"  were  a  number  of  men 
wearing  balls  and  chains;  who  they  were  or  what  were  their 
crimes,  I  never  knew;  they  were  there  when  we  went,  and  still 
there  wrhen  wreleft.  Poor  fellows,  I  think  I  should  rather  have 
been  dead.  There  are  a  great  many  mysterious  things  in  con- 
nection with  that  cruel  war,  which  will  always  remain  a  mys- 
tery. Every  morning,  the  bulletin  boards  would  contain  some- 
thing about  the  exchange  of  prisoners — the  cartel  had  been 
arranged;  a  number  were  going  to  be  carried  to  City  Point; 
were  to  start  the  next  morning.  Next  morning,  probably  the 
bulletin  boards  would  contain  the  announcement  that  so  many 
were  to  be  taken  out  and  shot,  in  retaliation  for  some  Yankee 
whom  our  bush-whackers  had  killed,  &c.  Here  I  witnessed 
the  meeting  of  two  neighbors,  who  belonged  to  different  sides — 
Capt.  Green,  of  the  Confederate  army,  and  Lieut.  Lohmire,  of 
the  11th  Ohio  Cavalry.  They  were  both,  or  had  been,  citizens 
of  Ozark,  Mo.  They  greeted  each  other  in  the  most  friendly 
manner,  and  were  glad  to  hear  of  each  other's  welfare.  Such 
was  that  cruel  war,  neighbor  fighting  against  neighbor,  brother 
against  brother,  yea,  even  son  against  father.  Who  was  respon- 
sible, certainly  not  for  the  most  part,  the  men  who  did  the 
fighting?  No,  those  who  boasted  that  they  would  be  willing  to 
drink  all  the  blood  that  wrould  be  shed,  if  the  South  seceded, 
and  who,  after  the  war  began,  found  soft  places,  bomb-proofs, 
commissariats,  quartermasters,  ordnance  departments,  enrolling 


53 


officers,  tithe  gatherers,  etc.,  and  speculate  at  the  expense  of 
the  blood  and  lives  of  those  to  whom  they  were  saying:  "Sic 
'em,  fellows,  go  for  'em;  we  will  see  that  your  wives  and  child- 
ren are  taken  care  of  in  case  of  your  death.  We  will  protect 
them  in  your  absence,"  etc.  There  were,  however,  some  glo- 
rious exceptions  to  thistheor\\  and  some  few  of  the  men  who 
talked  this  way,  sealed  their  devotion  to  their  country  and  its 
cause  with  their  blood,  yea,  and  their  lives.  Gov.  J.  H.  Means, 
for  one,  and  some  others. 


OHAPTEE  XXV. 
At  last  the  joyful  message  arrives  that  some  of  us  are  to  be 
paroled,  exchanged,  sent  home,  or  some  disposition  made  of  us; 
this  information  we  got  from  Major  Scovill.  who,  for  once  in  his 
life,  told  the  truth — three  or  four  hundred  are  to  be  selected, 
taken  alphabetically;  my  name  coming  near  the  head  of  the 
alphabet,  I  am  one  of  the  360,  mostly  cripples,  chosen:  we  are 
marched  out  of  the  prison  gate,  placed  on  a  steamboat  and  are 
soon  steaming  away  for  Sandusky;  the  lake  being  frozen,  a 
channel  has  been  cut  through  the  ice,  which  now,  late  in  the 
evening,  begins  to  freeze  over,  and  our  progress  is  slow:  at  last 
about  sun-set  we  reach  the  city,  disembark  and  are  hurried  to 
a  large  hall  for  the  night.  Old  Jackson  is  about  the  first  man 
we  spy,  and  he  is  abused  for  everything  that  is  mean:  he  got 
out  of  sight  as  soon  as  possible,  no  doubt  feeling  how  contempt- 
ibly he  had  treated  us.  In  this  hall  we  spent  the  night,  cold 
and  hungry,  having  nothing  given  us  but  hard  tack  (''floating 
battery''  crackers)  and  coffee  or  tea.  The  next  morning,  bright 
and  early,  we  were  marched  under  a  heavy  guard  to  the  cars 
and  put  in  second  class  coaches,  50  or  60  men  in  each  car,  with 
a  blue-coated  Yank  at  each  door  to  shoot  us  if  we  stirred;  they 
did  not  furnish  us  even  with  water  to  drink,  and  the  complaints 
of  the  men  for  water  amounted  to  naught.  At  last  the  train 
halted  for  a  time  at  Reading  and  we  besought  the  guard  t<»  get 

us  some  water;  one  of  them  said  he  wished,  by  ,  we  would 

dry  up  our  slack  about  water,  as  he  was  tired  of  hearing  it; 
Capt.  John  Cussaus,  of  Selma,  Ala.,  replied:  "You  d— d  Yan- 
kee, we  are  thirsty,  we  want  water,  we  are  free  to  ask  for  it 


54 


and  shall  certainly  do  so,  it  costs  no  money.1'  The  guard  at 
the  other  end  of  the  car  called  out  to  his  companion:  "Blow  a 
hole  through  him;  do  you  allow  him  to  curse  youf  The  fellow 
pulled  out  a  long  Colt's  navy  an'd  started  to  aim  it  at  Cussans, 
who  looked  at  him  with  the  bravery  of  a  lion  and  the  eye  of  an 
eagle  and  replied:  "You  d — d  cowardly  blue-coated  Yankee 
scoundrel,  attempt  to  shoot  and  we'll  cut  you  to  pieces  with  our 
pocket-knives."  The  fellow  turned  pale,  quailed  and  put  up 
his  pistol.  The  Lieutenant  of  the  guard  passed  the  car  window; 
Cussans  related  the  occurrence  and  demanded  water,  which  soon 
c  une.  Late  in  the  afternoon  we  passed  through  Pittsburg,  the 
city  over  which  continually  hangs  a  cloud  of  black  smoke  from 
the  numberless  foundries,  furnaces,  etc.;  at  a  distance  had  a 
view  of  Fort  DuQuesne,  of  Revolutionary  fame.  As  we  were 
about  to  leave  this  city  one  of  the  prisoners  and  a  citizen  spied 
and  recognized  each  other;  such  an  abusing  and  cursing  as  each 
got  I  never  heard;  the  cause  of  their  hatred  I  did  not  learn — 
another  of  the  strange  occurrences  of  this  cruel  and  bloody  war. 
All  night  we  were  speeding  toward  Baltimore;  every  hour  or 
two  the  guard  came  rushing  through  the  car,  trampling  on  the 
poor  crippled,  sleeping  rebs,  seeing  if  some  of  us  were  not  try- 
ing to  escape;  when  within  a  short  distance  of  the  city,  one  of 
our  men  leaped  out  of  a  window  and  escaped,  reaching  Rich- 
mond long  before  the  rest  of  us.  About  daylight  we  roll  into 
Baltimore,  are  hurried  off  the  cars,  formed  in  line  and  marched 
to  the  steamboat  landing;  but  such  an  escort — a  regiment  of 
infantry  and  battery  of  artillery  in  front,  a  squadron  of  cavalry 
on  either  side  and  a  brigade  of  infantry  and  battery  of  artillery 
in  the  rear — to  guard  360  crippled  rebs  through  the  city  of  Bal- 
timore. As  we  marched  through  by  the  morning  twilight  we 
could  see  from  almost  every  window  a  small  Confederate  flag 
waving  to  us — those  waving  evidently  trying  not  to  attract  the 
notice  of  the  guard,  but  wishing  us  to  see  it:  we  could  not  help 
thinking  as  the  song  rang:  "The  despot's  heel  is  on  thy  shore, 
Maryland,  my  Maryland;  his  touch  is  at  thy  temple  door,  Ma- 
ryland, my  Maryland;"  but,  alas!  she  wTas  not  able  to  avenge 
"The  patriotic  gore  that  flowed  the  streets  of  Baltimore;"  and 
while  she  breathed  and  burned,  she  could  not  come.  We  were 
hurried  through  and  put  on  a  steamer  for  Point  Lookout. 


55 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 
On  the  pretty  steamer  City  of  New  York,  bound  for  Point 
Lookout,  we  bad  plenty  to  eal  and  the  best  coffee  I  thought  I 
had  ever  drank;  the  boat  ran  along  so  smoothly,  thai  while  in 
her  hold  we  could  not  perceive  that  we  were  moving  at  all.  At 
last  we  reach  Point  Lookout;  the  weather  is  very  cold.  The 
wounded  are  assigned  quarters  in  the  hospital,  while  the  others 
are  placed  in  what  is  called  the  "bull  pen,"  guarded  by  black 
troops.  The  Sisters  of  Mercy  did  all  in  their  power  to  alleviate 
the  sufferings  of  those  who  needed  attention,  and  could  be  seen 
at  all  hours  going  from  one  to  the  other  of  the  sufferers.  There 
were  a  number  of  our  soldiers  who  had  taken  the  oath  of  alle- 
giance, as  it  seemed  there  never  would  be  any  exchange  of  pri- 
soners, as  our  Commissioner  and  the  Yankee  Commissioner 
could  not  agree  on  any  cartel  or  terms  of  exchange.  These 
fellows  we  called  galvanized  or  whitewashed  Yankees;  they 
were  still  prisoners,  however,  and  had  to  work.  Here  I  first 
met  the  notorious  Gen.  B.  F.  Butler;  he  visited  us  and  conversed 
pleasantly,  telling  us  he  hoped  soon  to  be  able  to  arrange  some 
plan  with  Col.  Ould,  our  Commissioner  of  Exchange,  by  which 
he  could  send  us  home.  In  about  three  weeks  we  received  the 
joyful  tidings  that  a  number  of  us  were  going  to  be  sent  home, 
or  to  City  Point  for  exchange.  About  this  time  I  received  a 
letter  from  New  York,  stating  that  my  artificial  leg  was  ready 
and  would  be  sent  in  a  few  days  by  express;  before  it  came  they 
began  to  make  out  a  list  of  us  to  be  sent  home — my  name  com- 
ing near  the  head  of  the  alphabet,  it  fell  to  my  lot  to  be  one  of 
those  who  were  going  to  Dixie,  and  notwithstanding  I  wanted 
my  artificial  leg  very  much,  I  wanted  to  get  home  a  great  deal 
more,  and  left  it  behind.  It  was  about  the  15th  of  March,  1863, 
when  1,000  or  1,200  of  us  were  marched  on  board  a  steamer  and 
started  for  City  Point;  our  guard  consisted  of  a  New  England 
regiment  of  conscripts  or  drafted  men;  they  (at  least,  the  pri- 
vates,) were  anxious  to  get  out  of  fighting,  and  promised  to 
mutiny  as  soon  as  we  reached  City  Point,  and  turn  OA^er  them- 
selves, steamer  and  everything  to  the  Confederate  authorities; 
but  lo!  when  we  reach  Fortress  Monroe,  our  guard  is  replaced 
by  veteran  soldiers.    While  waiting  on  board  the  steamer,  I 


56 


wrote  a  note  to  Gen.  B.  F.  Butler,  asking  him  to  come  aboard, 
as  I  wanted  to  see  him  on  particular  business;  he  came  and  I 
informed  him  about  my  artificial  limb  and  asked  if  he  would 
allow  it  to  be  sent  after  me  to  Richmond.  He  said  it  was  con- 
traband of  war  and  he  could  not  knowingly  allow  it  to  pass  the 
lines;  conversed  with  me  pleasantly  on  the  subject  and  told  me 
if  I  had  some  friend  at  the  Point  who  would  attend  to  it  for  me, 
to  write  to  him  and  he  would  try  to  get  some  poor  unfortunate 
reb  who  had  lost  a  leg  to  wear  it  through  for  me  to  Richmond. 
I  did  as  he  directed  and  he  carried  the  letter  back  himself.  We 
were  soon  under  way  for  City  Point,  which  we  reached  in  due 
time  and  were  transferred  to  our  own  little  steamers  and  soon 
were  walking  the  streets  of  the  Confederate  capital  once  more, 
many  of  us  minus  a  leg,  an  arm,  or  otherwise  maimed,  when 
bat  a  few  short  months  before  we  were  able  to  march  as  erect 
and  feel  as  gay  as  the  gayest — such  are  the  results  of  war.  We 
did  not  tarry  long  here;  each  one  got  a  pass  and  transportation 
home  as  soon  as  possible.    I  had  been  a  prisoner  nine  months. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 
I  tarried  but  a  short  time  in  Richmond;  soon  got  transporta- 
tion, &c,  and  started  for  home,  which  I  reached  without  many 
incidents  worthy  of  notice.  My  family  and  neighbors  were 
glad  lo  welcome  me  alive;  but  how  changed  my  condition; 
having  left  active,  strong,  robust,  sound  in  every  part,  to  re- 
turn a  cripple;  yes,  and  that,  too,  for  life.  I  felt  strange — 
did  not  know  what  to  do.  The  Confederate  government  had 
no  further  use  for  me;  I  went  to  work  and  learned  telegraphy. 
When  I  had  learned  well  enough  to  take  a  message  quickly  on 
paper  and  send  one,  I  was  employed  by  the  railroad  and  tele- 
graph company  to  take  charge  of  the  offica  at  Ridgeway.  I  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  some  officer  in  Richmond,  stating  that  he 
had  my  artificial  leg,  and  telling  me  to  come  on  at  once  and  get 
it;  this  was  joyful  news  to  me,  and  I  was  not  long  in  starting. 
I  had  a  fine  army  hat,  with  gilt  band  and  acorn  tassels,  that  I 
had  brought  home  from  prison;  I  prized  it  highly,  as  really,  in 
those  days,  a  decent  hat  was  something  almost  impossible  to 
get.    I  was  wearing  this  beautiful  hat  at  the  time.    When  we 


57 


got  to  Blackstock,  we  met  a  large  number  of  Confederate  sol- 
diers from  Virginia,  being  sent  as  reinforcements  to  the  West- 
ern army.  I  was  anxious  to  see  if  there  was  any  troops  among 
them  that  I  knew,  and  unsuspectingly  put  my  head  out  of  the 
window,  as  the  trains  were  moving  past  each  other,  when  some 
wicked  reb  reached  down  from  the  top  of  his  car,  snatched 
my  lovely  hat  and  was  gone.  Here  I  was  in  a  nice  fix,  bare- 
headed and  laughed  at  by  my  fellow-passengers.  When  we 
reached  Chester,  I  telegraphed  back  to  Ridge  way  to  the  ope- 
rator, to  try  and  get  my  hat,  but  he  could  never  find  the  man 
who  had  it.  I  had  also  telegraphed  ahead  to  the  -operator  at 
Bock  Hill,  asking  him  to  get  me  a  hat  by  the  time  we  reached 
there.  The  hat  he  had  to  offer  me  was  one  made  by  an  old 
darkey,  out  of  broom-sedge  straw,  wrapped  together  with  white 
homespun  thread:  it  looked  more  like  a  basket  than  a  hat,  but 
1  had  to  wear  it  to  Eichmond.  Arriving  there,  the  first  thing 
was  to  hunt  a  decent  hat,  which  I  found  was  a  difficult  task; 
at  last  I  got  some  sort  of  one  at  $40.  The  next  thing  was  to 
hunt  up  my  artificial  leg.  Finding  the  officer  who  had  it  in 
charge,  I  soon  strapped  it  on,  and  was  trying  to  learn  to  use  it 
right  away,  but,  as  I  have  stated  before,  Dr.  Bailey  had  given 
me  such  an  imperfect  amputation,  that  I  could  never  wear  an 
artificial  limb:  I  tried  repeatedly,  after  getting  home,  to  use  i\ 
but  in  vain:  every  time  I  used  it,  my  stump  would  rise  and 
give  me  so  much  trouble,  that  I  finally  abandoned  it  and  gave 
it  to  another  poor,  one-legged  reb,  who  was  quite  proud  of  it 
and  wore  it  out.  I  tarried  only  a  short  time  in  the  Confederate 
capital  and  hurried  back  to  my  post  as  telegraph  operator.  I 
liked  this  operating  very  much,  and  formed  some  pleasant  ac- 
quaintances among  the  telegraph  operators;  among  them,  one 
Soule,  in  the  Columbia  office;  I  don't  know  what  became  of  him. 
I  had  some  rich  telegrams  to  send,  and  received  some  of  the 
same  sort.  One  day  a  gentleman  handed  me  a  railroad  tele- 
gram to  read  in  a  hurry;  he  annoyed  me  nearly  every  day  with 
them.  In  this  particular  one,  he  wished  to  let  Mr.  Anderson, 
the  then  Superintendent  of  the  Charlotte,  Columbia  and  Au- 
gusta Eailroad,  know  that  something  had  to  be  soldered,  but 
had  it  spelled,  '"soddered."    I  called  the  operator  at  the  Co- 


58 


lumbia  depot;  be  answered;  I  then  drove  in  and  spelled  every- 
thing just  as  the  sender  had  written  it.  The  operator  said 
nothing  until  I  got  to  "soddered,"  when  lie  "broke"  me  and 
asked:  "In  the  name  of  goodness,  what  does  the  man  mean?" 
Finally,  I  made  him  understand,  and  we  had  a  hearty  laugh 
over  the  wires  about  it.  Mr.  A.  B.  Craig  was  railroad  agent 
at  Ridgeway  then.  Dr.  William  Carlisle  would  get  the  papers 
every  day  and  read  for  the  old  man,  who  would  assemble  there 
to  hear  the  latest  news  from  the  front. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

To  show  how  fast  we  are  passing  away,  I  recall  the  names 
of  some  of  them,  and  I  believe  the  last  one  whose  name  I  call 
has  passed  away.  Dr.  Carlisle,  long  since  dead;  A.  K.  Craig, 
Hon.  E.  G.  Palmer,  Major  George  R.  Hunter,  John  Coleman, 
John  Goxa,  Strother  Tidwell,  Wm.  McQuarters,  Win.  Robin- 
sou,  Edward  W.  Davis,  John  Hollis,  Wm.  Brazel,  Coleman 
Boulware,  John  E.  Peay,  Robert  Walker,  Rev.  C.  M.  Porter, 
Philip  Schwartz  and  William  Boyles.  These  were  men  sixty 
years  old  and  upward;  all,  or  nearly  all,  had  sons  in  the  army, 
and  really  they  were  the  only  white  male  inhabitants  in  a  coun- 
try embracing  eight  or  ten  miles.  Every  few  days  a  train  of 
Yankee  prisoners  would  be  brought  past,  going  to  Florence  or 
some  other  prison.  One  day,  a  train  of  them  came  along  and 
halted  for  a  considerable  time  at  Ridgeway;  these  fellows  had 
been  captured  by  Mosby's  men,  in  Xorthern  Virginia,  and  had 
been  pretty  well  stripped  of  clothing,  shoes,  hats,  &c.  One 
big,  strapping  fellow  was  sitting  down  in  a  box  car  door  be- 
moaning the  loss  of  his  clothes,  &c,  while  some  others  took  a 
more  cheerful  view  of  things,  and  were  laughing  at  their  grumb- 
ling comrade.  Dr.  Carlisle  remarked,  in  his  Irish  drawl,  "Augh, 
he  don't  want  any  shoes;  he  was  born  bare-footed."  This  stung 
the  fellow  so  much,  that  without  thinking,  he  replied,  ''Xo,  I'll 

be  if  I  was;"  which  raised  a  great  laugh;  the  thing  was  so 

ridiculous  that  ho  had  to  laugh,  too.  Sherman  was  nowT  pushing 
back  our  troops,  burning  and  devastating  the  country.  In  a 
short  while,  almost  all  the  rolling  stock  of  the  South  Carolina 


59 


Railway  was  being  run  on  the  Charlotte  road.  People  were 
refugeeing  farther  and  further  back.  The  railroad  w  as  lined 
with  passing  trains.  After  awhile  we  received  the  news  that 
Sherman  is  moving  on  Columbia.  Everything  is  in  confusion. 
I  am  relieved  by  an  army  oj)erator — or,  at  least,  he  is  with  me. 
Train  load  after  train  load  of  women,  children  and  old  men  are 
hurrying  Northward.  Our  broken  down,  jaded,  hungry,  scat- 
tered, whipped  soldiers  are  straggling  past.  Everything  is 
confusion.  I  had  already  sent  my  family  off,  and  the  night  be- 
fore Sherman  reaches  Columbia,  I  hide  out  myself  and  get 
away,  not  wishing  to  be  again  a  prisoner  of  war.  I  flee  into 
Kershaw,  and  live  for  several  days  in  the  woods  with  a  little 
brother-in-law,  our  food  being  sent  to  us  at  night.  After 
awhile,  we  learn  they  have  passed  and  pretty  well  cleaned  up 
everything  in  their  route.  In  a  few  days,  I  returned  to  Eidge- 
way.  Before  getting  there,  I  halted  in  front  of  the  house  of  a 
friend  and  acquaintance,  the  house  being  very  near  the  road. 
I  sat  in  my  buggy  and  conversed  with  the  ladies,  the  father  and 
husband  being  with  his  regiment,  in  Virginia.  While  con- 
versing with  them,  I  glanced  down  the  road  and  spied  three 
blue-coated  Yankee  soldiers,  apparently  unarmed,  coming 
straight  up  the  road.  I  waited  a  few  minutes,  they  came  up, 
nodded  to  me,  saluted  the  ladies,  opened  the  gate  and  went  i 
to  the  house.  I  did  not  understand  this;  I  bid  the  lady  with 
whom  I  was  talking  goocl-bye,  and  started  home.  Everybody, 
was  demoralized,  Sherman's  troops  had  acted  so  badly.  Elding 
along,  I  could  but  wonder  who  those  three  Yankees  were, 
what  they  were  after,  etc.  What  I  am  now  about  to  relate  is 
so  sickening,  so  revolting,  that  I  shall  call  no  names.  The 
actors  in  the  drama  are  all  dead  or  moved  out  of  the  country. 
I  soon  passed  the  house  of  a  Confederate,  who  was  at  home  on  a 
furlough;  I  related  to  him  about  the  blue  coats;  he  insisted  on 
my  waiting  until  he  sent  for  another  reb,  who  was  in  hiding 
not  far  off.  When  he  came,  we  went  back  to  the  house  where 
they  had  stopped.  He  went  in,  brought  them  out,  and  carried 
them  with  us  on  back  to  his  house.  They  proved  to  be  three 
deserters  from  Sherman's  army,  who  had  a  request  from  Gen. 
Hampton,  or  his  Adjutant,  in  their  pockets,  asking  citizens  and 


soldiers  to  assist  them  through  our  lines,  to  be  kind  to  them, 
and  thus  encourage  desertion  from  the  Federal  army.  When 
Ave  reached  this  man's  house,  another  reb  was  sent  for,  and  it 
was  decided  that  two  of  these  rebs  and  a  negro  would  guard 
these  deserters  to  Winnsboro,  and  turn  them  over  to  the  enroll- 
ing officer.  Our  road  la\  together  for  some  distance,  and  when 
we  came  to  where  our  roads  parted,  I  called  to  one  of  our  guards, 
who  was  my  friend  and  neighbor,  and  asked  in  an  undertone 
to  do  these  men  no  harm.  He  hooted  at  the  idea  of  such  a 
thing,  and  told  me  to  have  no  fears,  but  I  did  have  tears  for 
their  safety,  i  had  seen  him  make  them  give  up  their  rings, 
&c.  The  next  day  I  had  occasion  to  go  to  Winnsboro,  and 
here  learned  that  the  deserters  had  never  readied  there,  but 
had  been  murdered,  shot  down,  stripped  and  left  for  dead,  not 
more  than  a  mile  from  where  I  parted  from  them.  One  of  the 
poor  fellows  was  not  dead,  but  found  his  way  back  to  the  house, 
where  I  had  seen  them  stop,  late  in  the  night,  covered  with  gore, 
and  nearly  naked:  there  he  was  nursed  and  cared  for,  until  he 
was  able  to  be  sent  to  the  Confederate  hospital  in  Camden. 
Whether  he  got  well  and  got  home,  I  can't  say;  hope  he  did. 
The  hones  of  his  two  companions  lay  bleaching  where  they  fell 
a  few  years  ago,  having  never  been  buried. 
So  much  for  war.    These  are  facts  and  can  be  proven. 


CHAPTEE  XXIX. 

I  do  not  feel  that  my  narrative  would  be  complete  without 
giving  in  full  a  roll  of  those  who  were  with  me  in  my  company; 
I,  therefore,  make  the  following  roll  of  Co.  C,  also  Co.  F,  12th 
s.  C.  V.,  giving  the  names  of  all  those  killed  in  battle,  who  died 
from  wounds  and  sickness  during  the  war,  who  died  since  the 
war  and  of  those  now  living.  Some  who  were  discharged  were 
conscripted  or  joined  other  commands,  I  lost  knowledge  of: 

Co.  C. — Capt.  Henry  C.  Davis,  promoted  Lieut.  Col.  Feb.  4, 
1863;  wounded  at  Sharpsburg,  resigned;  died  since  the  war.  1st 
Lieufe  John  W.  Delaney,  killed  at  Gaines'  Mill  June  27,  1862. 
2d  Lieut.  John  A.  Hinnant,  wouned  at  Gaines'  Mill,  lost  leg  at 
Gettysburg;  living.   3d  Lieut.  Samuel  Y.  Eosborough,  wounded 


61 


at  Sharpsburg,  promofed  to  1st  Lieut.;  died  si  nee  the  war.  1st 
Sergt.  S.  W.  Broom,  appointed  Regimental  Ordnance  Sergeant; 
living.  2d  Sergt.  John  R.  Thomas,  promoted  Capt. :  living.  3d 
Sergt.  J.W.  Robinson;  living.  4th  Sergt.  J.  R.  Boyles;  wounded 
at  White  Oak  Swamp  June  30,  1862;  elected  Lieut.  Feb.,  1863; 
wounded  and  disabled  at  Gettysburg  July  1, 1863;  living.  5th 
Sergt.  John  L.  Goza,  wounded  at  2d  Manassas,  discharged;  liv- 
ing. 1st  Corpl.  J.  A.  Rosborough,  wounded  in  the  Seven  1  >ays5 
fight  June  27,  1862;  promoted  1st  Sergt.;  living.  2d  Corpl. 
John  W.  Broom,  promoted  Sergt.,  killed  at  Gettysburg  July  2, 
1863.  3d  Corpl.  Josiah  Xeely,  promoted  Sergt.;  living.  4th 
Corpl.  J.  H.  True,  promoted  Sergt.;  living.  5th  Corpl.  Samuel 
*  Rose,  died  in  hospital  1862;  6th  Corpl.  W.  H.  Smith,  killed. 
Privates — Thos.  Arledge,  disabled  from  wrounds;  living.  John 
Ayers,  died  during  the  war.  Wm.  Bishop,  discharged  in  1863, 
over  age;  died  since  wrar.    M.  L.  Braswell,  discharged;  living. 

A.  Clarke  Braswell,  killed  at  Gaines'  Mill  June  27,  1862.  Wm. 
Blake,  discharged  1864;  living.  R.  Y.  Brazel,  wounded;  living. 
Wm.  J.  Brazel;  living.    Thos.  F.  Brown,  died  since  war.  John 

B.  Brown,  appointed  Co.  Commissary;  living.  J.  Lee  Brown, 
died  since  war.  W.  C.  Buchanan,  promoted  Adjt, ;  killed  at 
Ox  Hill  1862.  A.  J.  Carter,  died  in  Richmond  1863.  D.  L. 
Carter,  wounded  at  Gettysburg;  living.  Geo.  Cook,  wounded 
at  Sharpsburg;  living.  Jessie  Cook,  killed  at  Spottsylvania  '  ill, 
Wm.  Cook,  wounded  at  Wilderness;  dead.  C.  S.  Coleman,  dis- 
charged over  age  1863;  died  since  war.  J.  H.  Cooper,  living. 
Samuel  F.  Cooper,  living.  S.  Y.  Crossland,  living.  John  D. 
Crossland,  living.  Powell  Davis,  living.  Riley  Davis,  died  in 
Richmond  1863.  Sylvester  Davis,  died  in  Richmond  1863.  Win. 
Downing,  died  in  Richmond  1863.  M.  Dinkel,  died  Richmond 
1863.  Win.  Duren,  died  Beaufort  1861.  D.  S.  Douglass,  killed 
Spottsylvania.  A.  S.  Dunlap,  died  Fort  Delaware  1863.  Sidney 
P.  Dunlap,  living.  Joseph  J.  Dunlap,  killed  Fredericksburg 
Dec,  13,  1863.  James  Dunlap,  died  Richmond  1863.  Alfred 
Dunn,  living.  David  Dunn,  died  from  wounds  Spottsylvania. 
F.  M.  Durham,  missing  Spottsylvania.  R.  H.  Easier,  living. 
Wm.  Ellis,  died  Richmond  1864.  AY.  W.  Entzminger,  hospital 
steward;  living.    John  Entzminger,  discharged  1861;  living. 


James  W.  Farmer,  died  since  war.  John  Fleming,  died  since 
war.  John  M.  Fogg,  living.  Enoch  Freeman,  died  Pocotaligo 
L862.  John  Freeman,  died  Guinea  Station  1863.  AV m.  Free- 
man, died  Guinea  Station  1863.  Robert  Freeman,  died  Rich- 
mond 1864.  James  Freeman,  living.  Robert  Goza,  died  Rich- 
mond 1863.  G.  W.  Hathcock,  living.  Jas.  W.  Hathcock, 
living.  Arthur  Hays,  wounded  Gaines'  Mill:  living.  John 
Hays,  died  Guinea  Station  1863.  Ben.  Hays,  died  Guinea  Sta- 
tion L863.  W.  H.  Hatcher,  teamster;  living.  Geo.  W.  Hendrix,. 
killed  Petersburg,  1864.  John  A.  Hendrix,  living.  Jesse 
Hendrix,  wounded,  died  Gettysburg. 

Henry  M.  Hinnant,  living.  John  L.  Hollis,  living.  James 
Huftstiller,  living.  Ben.  Hood,  died  Richmond  1862.  John 
I  Lowell,  wounded  Petersburg;  living.  Thos.  Howell,  living. 
James  Joyner,  living.  John  A.  Kenned}^,  died  since  war.  John 
Lucas,  died  Elmiral864.  Win.  T.  Mickle,  died  wounds  Gaines' 
Mill.  Roland  Moss,  died  wounds  Gettysburg.  Richard  Xeely, 
died  Richmond  1863.  Thos.  Paul,  died  Hamilton  Crossing '63. 
J.  W.  Paul,  living.  S.  R.  Perry,  living.  Edmund  Price, 
wounded  Gettysburg;  living.  Wm.  J.  Price,  died  hospital"  63. 
Robert  F.  Pogue,  Mounded  Gaines'  Mill;  died  since  war.  An- 
thony Raines,  killed  carrying  colors  Gettysburg.  Wm.  Raines, 
/died  Ridgeway.  Henry  Raines,  living.  Thos.  Reynolds,  living. 
Jas.  H.  Reyaolds,  living.  Osmund  Reynolds,  living.  Joseph 
Reynolds,  living.  Roland  Reynolds,  discharged  overage;  died 
since  war.  Hastings  Reynolds,  drowned  St.  Helena  Sound  '61. 
Reuben  J.  Richardson,  killed  Sharpsburg.  John  Richardson, 
killed  Gettysburg.  John  S.  Richardson,  died  wounds  Gaines' 
Mill.  Wm.  Richardson,  killed  near  James  River  1864.  Thos. 
L.  Richardson,  living.  Wm.  D.  Richardson,  living.  X.  C. 
Robertson,  Sergt.  Major;  living.  John  A.  Robertson,  wounded 
Gettysburg:  living.  J.  L.  Robinson,  living.  A.  W.  Robinson, 
died  Richmond.  E.  Frank  Rosborough,  wounded  White  Oak 
Swamp;  living.  Jas.  L.  Rosborough,  Com.  Sergt.;  died  since 
war.  Jos.  Rose,  killed  Gettysburg.  Wm.  A.  Rose,  detailed  on 
light  duty:  living.  Wm.  Rush,  discharged  1862;  died  since 
war.  J.  B.  Schwartz,  killed  Gettysburg.  J.  A.  Schwartz,  liv- 
ing.   Robert  A.  Smart,  discharged  over  age  1862;  living.  Geo. 


63 


D.  Smith,  discharged;  died  during  war.  Geo.  H.  Smith,  living, 
James  M.  Smith,  living.  W.  E.  T.  Smith,  uied  since  war.  J. 
W.  Smith,  discharged  1863;  died.  Geo.  W.  Simpson,  wounded 
Gaines'  Mill;  died  since  war.  G.  W.  Sweat  man.  wounded 
Sharpsburg;  died  since  war.  Win.  E.  Taylor,  living.  J.  M. 
Vaughn,  wounded  2d  Manassas;  living.  J.  \V.  Williamson, 
wounded  Gettysburg;  living.  W.  P.  Wyrick,  wounded  Get- 
tysburg; died  prison.  Frank  X.  Wyrick,  killed  Spottsylvaniai 
Frank  X.  Wilson,  living.  W.  L.  Wootlan.  discharged  1862; 
living.    J.  A.  Yongue,  living. 

We  had  from  first  to  last  118  privates  and  15  commissioned 
aud  non-commissioned  officers;  of  these,  16  were  killed  on  the 
field  of  battle,  7  died  from  wounds,  27  died  in  hospital  from 
sickness,  1  drowned,  33  died  since  the  war  and  47  were  living 
Feb.  15,  1890. 

Co.  F. — Oapt.  R.  Y.  McMeekin,  resigned  Jan.,  1863;  living. 
1st  Lieut.  Eber  A.  Rabb,  appointed  Reg.  Com.;  died  home. 
2d  Lieut.  John  C.  Bell,  living.  Lieut.  Joel  A.  Beard,  wounded 
Wilderness.  Lieut.  H.  H.  Chappell,  died  home' 62.  Lieut.  X. 
M,  Cook,  elected  from  Sergt.  '62.  Lieut.  David  L.  Glenn, 
wounded  2d  Manassas.  Ord.  Sergt.  L.  H.  Chappell,  promoted 
from  ranks;  killed  Gaines'  Mill.  Color  Sergt.  Jas.  Cook,  killed 
2d  Manassas.  Sergt.  Thos.  McMeekin,  wounded  Eraser  s  Farm, 
killed  Spottsylvania.  Sergt.  W.  B.  Gibson,  wounded  Cold  Har- 
bor; discharged.  Sergt.  L.  T.  James,  wounded  Gettysburg. 
Sergt.  John  H.  Sloan,  killed  2d  Manassas.  Sergt.  S.  C.  Burkett, 
wounded  Fraser' s  Farm,  Gettysburg;  died  since  war.  Sergt.  J. 
Yongue  Brice,  wounded  Gaines'  Mill;  living.  Corp.  John  W. 
Watt,  died  Jan.,  '62.  Corp.  Edward  W.  Willingham,  killed 
Sharpsburg.  Corp.  Win.  McMeekin,  died  Point  Lookout  June 
15,  '65.  Corp.  C.  D.  Burley,  wounded  Chickahominy.  Corp. 
Jas.  Golston,  promoted  from  ranks;  living. 

Privates — M.  C.  Armstrong,  discharged  Jan.,  '63.  F.  B.  Aus- 
tin, wounded  Manassas.  Thos.  Anderson,  transferred  Western 
army.  E.  F.  Banks,  died  wounds  2d  Manassas.  AY  in.  Bell, 
dead.  Warren  Boyd,  discharged;  living.  O.  H.  Bookman, 
killed  Ream's  Station.  T.  C.  Brown,  wounded  Sharpsburg: 
died.    Daniel  Brown,  died  Feb.,  '62.    W.Watt  Brice,  wounded 


64 


Wilderness;  living.  Scott  Br  ice,  died  Richmond.  J.  H.  Briee, 
living.  Jos.  R.  Cook,  wounded  Wilderness.  L.  C.  Chappell, 
Joel  ( Jhappell,  wounded  Gaines'  Mill;  died  wounds  Gettysburg. 
Hix  Chappell,  killed  Five  Forks.  Oscar  Chappell.  R.  H. 
Curry,  wounded  Sharpsburg.  Wm.  Clark,  wounded  2d  Manas- 
sas: died  since  war.  Zack  Day,  wounded  Gaines'  Mill;  died 
Richmond.  David  Douglass,  wounded  Gaines'  Mill;  died  Rieh- 
moud.  Thos.  Douglass,  living.  Nathan  Dunbar,  living.  Ro- 
berl  Elder,  wounded  2d  Manassas.  Wm.  Fetner,  died  prison 
'64.  Robert  P>.  Ferrell,  died'68.  Wm.  R.  Garrison,  transfer- 
red 6th  Regiment;  living,  Jackson  Germany,  wounded  Get- 
tysburg; living.  Jas.  L.  Gladden,  living.  Win.  P,  Gibson, 
living.  Wju.  Gibson,  wounded  Sharpsburg;  living.  Thos.  F. 
Harrison,  wounded  Gettysburg;  living.  Daniel  B.  Harrison, 
wounded  Gaines'  Mill:  died  since  war.  John  Harrison.  Mil- 
ton C.  Harrison,  wounded Fraser's  Farm;  living.  Jas.  R.  Har- 
vey, wounded  Gettysburg,  discharged;  living.  M.  C.  Hawthorn, 
wounded  Gettysburg,  Spottsylvania;  killed  Petersburg.  Geo. 
S.  Hinnant,  wounded  Spottsylvania,  Sharpsburg;  living.  Jas. 
B.  Hinnant,  wounded  Gaines'  Mill,  2d  Manassas;  living.  Bur- 
rell  Hudson,  died  Richmond.  W.  J.  Hamilton,  wounded  Wil- 
derness; died  since  war.  David  A.  James,  wounded  Gaines' 
Mill,  Sharpsburg;  died  S.  G,  '64.  John  Keith,  living.  R.  S. 
Ketch  in,  died  since  war.  B.  F.  Lyles,  living.  Jas.  W.  Lyles, 
killed  Petersburg.  John  Matthews,  killed  Spottsylvania.  C. 
K.  Montgomery,  killed  Spottsylvania.  Jonathan  O.  Matthews, 
died1 77.  J.  B.  Miller,  killed  Manassas.  S.  L.  Montgomery, 
died  home  '63.  R.  P.  Mayo,  living.  W.  W.  Mundle,  killed 
Gettysburg.  Jos.  Martin,  died  Gordonsville.  Robert  Martin, 
living.  Wm.  Martin,  wounded  Gaines'  Mill.  John  A.  McCoy, 
died.  S.  L.  McDowell,  died.  Wm.  A.  McDowell,  wounded 
Petersburg;  living.  James  F.  McDowell.  James  McMeekin, 
wounded  Sharpsburg;  living.  Jos.  McMeekin,  wounded  Wil- 
derness: living.  Andrew  McMeekin,  killed  2d  Manassas.  Ro- 
bert McMeekin,  died  Laurel  Hill.  Joel  McMeekin,  living. 
Archy  Park,  living.  Jas.  W.  Paul,  dead.  John  Parnell,  trans- 
ferred 3d  Bat;  dead.  Geo.  Peak,  killed  Cold  Harbor.  Sam'l 
Proctor,  wounded  Gettysburg;  living.    J.  H.  Rabb,  living.  C. 


65 


H.  Ribb,  living.  Thos.  Robinson.  Prank  Robinson.  S.  \Vr. 
Ruff,  wounded  Sharpsburg;  living.  Wesley  Ruff,  died  home. 
Wm.  Rows,  living.  M.  Russell,  died  wounds  Gettysburg.  John 
Russell.  Gaillard  Richardson,  died  home.  J.  R.Sloan,  wounded 
2d  Manassas;  living.  C.  W.  Sloan,  wounded  Sharpsburg.  Ear- 
vey  Stanton,  died  Richmond.  Wm.  J.  Stanton,  discharged,  liv- 
ing. Hugh  Strong,  discharged,  living.  E.  A.  Starnes,  living. 
0.  H.  Scruggs,  living.  C.  Strong,  discharged;  died  since  war. 
Bayfield  Trapp,  died  Richmond  '64.  A.  M.  Timms,  living. 
James  Timms,  living.  John  Willingham,  wounded  Gaines' 
Mill;  living.  Jos.  Willingham,  discharged  '62;  dead.  Jas. 
Wilson,  died  Richmond  '64.  Jesse  Wyrick,  killed  Gaines  Mi  11. 
John  P.  Wilkes,  died  '61.  Thos.  Watt,  discharged;  living. 
2d  Manassas,  died  since  war.  W.  B.  Yarborough,  wounded. 
1  Capt.,  6  Lieutenants,  8  Sergeants,  5  Corporals,  99  privates. 


MY  LOVE  AND  I. 

The  following  lines  were  written  by  "Asa  Hartz" — E.  George 
McKnight — at  Johnson's  Island,  Lake  Erie,  the  Yankee  prison 
for  Confederate  officers,  in  February,  1864: 

My  love  reposes  on  a  rosewood  frame, 

A  bunk  have  I. 
A  couch  of  feathery  down  fills  up  the  same, 

Mine's  straw,  but  dry. 
She  sinks  to  sleep  at  night  with  scarce  a  sigh; 
With  waking  eyes  I  watch  the  hours  creep  by. 

My  love  her  daily  dinner  takes  in  state, 

And  so  do  I. 
The  richest  viands  flank  her  silver  plate; 

Coarse  grub  have  I. 
Pure  wine  she  sips  at  ease  her  thirst  to  slake; 
I  pump  my  drink  from  Erie's  limpid  lake. 

My  love  has  all  the  world  at  will  to  roam; 

Three  acres  I. 
She  goes  abroad  or  better  sits  at  home; 

So  cannot  I. 

Bright  angels  watch  around  her  couch  at  night; 
A  Yankee  with  loaded  gun  keeps  me  in  sight. 

A  thousand  miles  now  stretch  between 

My  love  and  1. 
To  her  this  wintry  night,  cold,  calm,  serene, 

I  waft  a  sigh. 
And  hope  with  all  my  earnestness  of  soul. 


66 


To-morrow's  mail  may  bring  me  my  parole. 
There  is  hope  ahead,  we'll  one  day  meet; 

My  love  and  I. 
We'll  wipe  away  all  tears  of  sorrow  then; 

Her  love-lit  eye 
Will  all  my  trouble  then  beguile, 
And  keep  this  wayward  reb  from  Johnson's  Isle. 


AND  NO  ONE  WEITES  TO  ME. 

The  list  is  called  and  one  by  one 

The  anxious  crowd  now  melts  away, 
I  linger  still  and  wonder  why 

No  letter  comes  for  me  to-day. 
Are  all  my  friends  in  Dixie  dead? 

Or  would  they  all  forgotten  be? 
What  have  I  done?    What  have  I  said? 

That  no  one  ever  writes  to  me? 

It's  mighty  queer. 

1  watch  the  mails  each  weary  day, 

With  anxious  eyes  the  list  o'errun, 
And  envy  him  whose  name  is  called, 

But  love  him  more  who  gets  not  one; 
For  I  can  sympathise  with  him, 

And  feel  how  keen  his  grief  must  be, 
Since  I  an  exile  from  my  home 

And  no  one  ever  writes  to  me, 
I  do  declare. 

Within  a  quiet,  happy  home. 

Far,  far  in  Dixie's  sunny  clime, 
There  dwells  a  quiet,  happy  maid, 

Who  wrote  to  me  in  by-gone  days. 
Now  others  from  their  dear  ones  hear, 

In  tender  letters  looming  free; 
Yet  here  I've  been  this  half  a  year, 

And  why  does  she  not  write  to  me? 

We  are  not  estranged. 

Will  no  one  write  me  just  a  line, 

To  say  that  I'm  remembered  yet? 
You  cannot  guess  how  much  delight 

I  would  feel  could  I  a  letter  get; 
Could  I  but  hear  from  some  kind  friend, 

Whose  face  I  ne'er  may  see  again, 
Will  some  one  now  my  anguish  end? 

If  some  one  does  not  write  to  me 

I  will  get  estranged. 


I 


